Confused Symbolism

It is hard to believe that the Presidential Campaign that started in 2007 is all but over. It is even harder to believe that we are left with two less than enthusing choices.

My man Thompson, Better Fred Than Dead, came in to weak and got killed off early in the fight. I didn't even get a chance to vote for him in our local primary. I had to scribble the box for Romney. And even that was to no affect after McCain and Huckabee teamed up to sandbag that honorable mormon. And the shu-in from the start of the campaign, Conventional wisdom's choice, Mr. Mayor, Judy Ruliani, went down in flames early. Which was really no great loss to me. If he had been the nominee instead I would have been still holding my nose as I scratched my opposition to Democrat Liberalism. The lesser of two weevils, you know.

When Thompson "suspended" his campaign, I was downhearted. And then when it became apparent that McCain was going to become the nominee for the Republican party, and by proxy the best candidate for us Conservatives Firsts, I became politically morose. I even thought about not voting this year.

But I soon got over that. Not voting, is a vote for the opposition. It's true. Even for those of us who are lost on a sea of blue. We can take some small conciliation in knowing that one red vote will cancel out one blue vote. And if enough of us red coats turn out, we can send those Blue Rebels packin'! Miracles do happen you know. You Betcha!

And then that happened. Palin was summoned from the Great North Country, the land that the contiguous forty-eight forgot. At first I was skeptical. I didn't know hardly anything about her. Except that she was in her early forties, and I had recently seen a picture of her at an Alaskan State press conference, very pregnant with her fifth child and looking good. I knew that she was a Republican, and that she was doing good works there in Alaska, but that was it. But as the days passed I began to grow more confident in the choice. And by the time we arrived at the RNC I was convinced that she was a good choice. And then I heard her speak. And I KNEW she was the best possible choice that McCain could have ever made. If for no other reason than by hearing what all of the media elites and the political pundants had to say: "Oh, this it the biggest mistake McCain could have ever made!" But we know better, don't we, my fellow Bitter Clingers.

It was also at that conference that my boy Thompson gave the most rousing speech of all the has-been fellas. I turned to Belle and said "Why wasn't he talking like this in the primaries? Could you imagine a Thompson-Palin ticket?"

But then McCain, or his advisers, depends on who you listen to, got ahold of Palin and said, "We have got to tone her down. We have to appeal to our beloved moderates. That conservative saber rattling will never do." And the rose bloom had a dark, wet blanket thrown over it. BUT, about three weeks ago the Bulldog chewed a hole in that dirty packing tarp and came out snapping. Just in the nick of time.

But was it enough? We'll know tomorrow night.

You have pro'bly noticed that I haven't said anything about the opposition ticket: Obiden. What's there to say? There's not much to say except that anyone who votes for Obiden is willingly ignor-let me be more blunt: Stupid On Purpose.

I have a good friend, used to be anyway, who is voting for Obiden. And in my rousing conversations with him, I became aware that he was not voting for Obiden out of a logical, conclusive, reasoning, deducing mind. (I know that sounds really bad, but I really do love him. He was closer than a brother for years and years.) My friend is voting for Obiden out of simple emotion. He has been seduced by the image that is Obama. The appearance that he is intelligent. That he is well spoken. That he can restore our standing in the world. I don't doubt that Mr. Obama is smart. The fact that he has gotten as far as he has proves that he has some kind of smarts. However, I believe that they are the smarts created by brawling in the gutter.
And it has served him well. Politics is war after all. If only our combatant had been aware of that.

But the race is not to the swift, nor to the strong, but to him that endureth to the end (NLIT - New Living Incomplete Translation-see how easy it is to create your own version.)

Undoubtedly this has been a race of mixed up mascots. The GOP has the Elephant and the Dems have the donkey. But it has been the great *ah-hem* white Elephant that the media-wing of the democrat party has been pushing toward the wire, and it is the stubborn maverick donkey that you and I have been left with the task of dragging across the finish line.

If you are eighteen. Vote. And when all the rhetoric is boiled down, you are left with only two clear criterion for making your final decision: Your pocket book. And your conscience. If you don't fully understand the greater impact of the financial debate, ask someone you trust to 'splain it to you. And if you don't have a conscience: shame on you.

One final thought. Look everywhere, and they all say that Barry's the next President. Conventional wisdom has thus declared it so. I don't subscribe to that magazine. I believe that McCain and Palin are going to pull this one out of the bag. And I don't believe that it is going to be by 500 votes in Florida. It will be undeniable. This will be the October surprise, only in November. It will be contested by the Dems, but just like in 2000, every time they count the votes, the winner's lead will increase.