So I had this post in my head about understanding and not understanding and agnosticism and religion and politics and empathic imagination. . . .
It’s still there, and there it remains, at least for another day.
So I had this post in my head about understanding and not understanding and agnosticism and religion and politics and empathic imagination. . . .
It’s still there, and there it remains, at least for another day.
I’d say I was a lousy Democrat, except that I’m not.
A Democrat, that is. (I’m a lousy independent socialist, thankyouveddymuch.)
Still, since I’m Oh-yeah-Obama I wonder if I should watch/listen to the convention, just. . . because, or something.
Now, there was no way I was going to listen to the GOPpers at their shindig. My hammer-down realism can only go so far in protecting me from rampant bullshit, and I didn’t feel like spending three nights uncreatively cursing those motherfucking motherfuckers. . . !
(Yes, I am teaching an intro American govt course and it would probably be a good pedagogical thing to subject myself to the parties partying, but hey, I’m an adjunct and CUNY does not pay me anywhere near enough to put myself through that.)
I did watch Michelle Obama’s speech today, and, yeah, it was good (tho’ the ‘mom-in-chief’ bit? good grief), but I don’t really care. My sister likes her A LOT and I like her just fine, but I’m voting for the president, not the first lady, so, eh.
Then again, I’m pretty “eh” about all of this, probably because I am Oh-yeah-Obama—I’ve already made up my mind. I live in New York, which is going to go blue in November, so it’s not as if I need to be charged up to go knock on doors or cold-call strangers in order to bring the state home.
In other words, these speeches ain’t for me.
They’re for my sister, who needs the boost in the teeth of the disaster that is Scott Walker, and Dems in red states who need the boost in the teeth of GOP domination and fence-sitters who don’t know into which pasture to fall and activists who are determined to push those fence-sitters in the right direction. They’re for the people who need to know they’re not alone and those who want to stand up an be known.
And they’re for the Republicans, to let them know there will be a fight, that the president cannot be separated from his party and his party cannot be separated from the Yoo-nited States of America.
Anyway, I’m listening to Bill now, because, yeah, that man can give a speech, It’s all right, so far, but, again, it’s not for me.
What is nice, however—and a distinct contrast from those mofing mofers—is that it’s not against me, either.
*Update* Okay, okay, I’m now watching Bill on PBS’s website, and, damn, that man can give a speech.
I’m always surprised by how salty the ocean is.
I dive into a wave, come up with salt on my lips, salt in my eyes, and I think, Oh, I was so sweaty, so much salt.
And then I remember, no, this isn’t me, this is the sea.
Of all of the lies Paul Ryan has told recently, this is the one he walks back:
“I had a two hour and fifty-something” marathon, Ryan said last week an interview. “I hurt a disc in my back, so I don’t run marathons anymore.”
But the Ryan campaign confirmed to Runner’s World that he has only run one marathon, the 1990 Grandma’s Marathon in Duluth, Minnesota, which he finished in just over 4 hours.
“The race was more than 20 years ago, but my brother Tobin—who ran Boston last year—reminds me that he is the owner of the fastest marathon in the family and has never himself ran a sub-three,” Ryan said in a prepared statement. “If I were to do any rounding, it would certainly be to four hours, not three. He gave me a good ribbing over this at dinner tonight.”
Fannnnntastic.
Source: Alana Horowitz, Huffington Post