I spend a good deal of time assuming that our next president will be an order of magnitude better than our current president. Which is fine, since I also spend a good deal of time realizing that that probably isn’t true and our president will likely always leave something to be desired, and by that I mean I’ll almost certainly have to vote for the least bad of two people I probably wouldn’t even trust to run a wet T-shirt contest.
But maybe I shouldn’t be so critical of the candidates, especially since when it comes down to it, if I were a Democrat on the fence during primary season, this might help me decide:
And if it did help me decide, would that make my vote count any less? Would that make the title any less important to the person who is elected?
This may not be an official product of the Hillary Clinton campaign, but if it’s not it’s genius negative publicity, so the opposition gets points for that.
Yes, yes, I know. I’m not even going to start by acknowledging that it’s been a while before I’ve posted anything. Ah hell, I just did. Moving on …
At some point in the last several months I predicted that 2008 was going to be the greatest year of my life, and so far I’ve been right, provided you read the fine print in which I specified the definition of “greatest” in that case as relating to tons of work and not enough time. Yes, I went and got a new job with a weird schedule, have half-assedly took on too many extra things, and am still finding time to make up cool new words like “half-assedly” and “extra” (you just prove that I didn’t make that up, smart ass). But things should settle down. When I’m dead.
And this month — don’t even get me started on this month. The writers strike ended, which is great now that it’s over because I’ll have a smidge less work to do, but jeez it was hell while it was ending. “Smidge.” Did I make that up, too? Lookit me go!
Also, Oscars are coming. Cue Jaws suspense music. That weekend will not be good for me, lemme tell ya. Speaking of Jaws, Roy Scheider died. Defamer had the best headline (though I’m sure it was oft-repeated in many forms, I saw it there first): Heaven’s gonna need a bigger boat.
I’ll stop complaining right after I mention that we’re trying to move this month, and at this point we have nary an option for parking our belongings. But hey, there’s still 16 days left in February. No sweat, right? Wrong! No time, no time! Help me!
Also, I’m getting sick, so that’s good.
In politics, Clinton and Obama, McCain. Huckabee? Not Romney, etc. That about sums it up. McCain is the Republican frontrunner. The Democrats don’t have a frontrunner because they’re commies, and that’s not the way commies roll. Back in April I wrote a post on this blog defending John McCain in a way, though I was mostly defending the idea that politicians should be allowed a bit of levity. I said:
Look, If politicians aren’t allowed to have a sense of humor in a situation that’s informal and lighthearted, maybe we should just skip to the part where robots take over, since we’re already at least a third of the way there.
What I was referring to was a joke McCain made in which he took the hit Beach Boys cover “Barbara Ann,” which is the title and 95% of the lyrics, and cleverly switched the words to “Bomb bomb bomb, bomb bomb Iran.” Many people saw that as callous, and I definitely agree, but that’s sort of why it’s funny, so I’m not very torn. When you have a choice, humor always trumps tact. Always.
So now he’s the frontrunner, and if he becomes the nominee I’ll definitely be giving my support wholeheartedly to not him. With this in mind, it’s a good time to get that video out again and revive the outrage. I mean, do we want this callous megalomaniac running our country?
Yes, yes, I know. I’m not even going to start by acknowledging that it’s been a while before I’ve posted anything. Ah hell, I just did. Moving on …
