Politicked unto death

Saw a comment over at Sheila's always-excellent blog and it made me sick of myself.

It's in the comments here. It's actually good news - she's been blogrolled by James Walcott, and that's a big deal in the art and literature community. Congratulations are in order. And that's why I'm ill with my own crapticity.

The thing is, what I've read of Mr. Walcott's work doesn't jibe well with me. Maybe he's a good read on his own subjects, but.... well, the term "glib phrase-spitter" comes to mind when he goes after other folks, and especially on political subjects.

You may wish to exercise some discretion at that last link, Rachel and many of her commenters use some rough words. For example, me.

Yeah, I called James Walcott a bit of a name. Now, you could call this blog the Internet equivalent of flyover country, where Spider and I bitterly cling to our faith, but you know, just because nobody knows nor cares what I write, doesn't mean that I should just say stuff like that.

I'm glad for Sheila and her commenter about being blogrolled by the guy, and he may have done much better work that I've missed in not reading Vanity Fair. It's hardly fair to judge the guy solely by quotes pulled by someone who doesn't like his work much. Still, it's hard to like it when a guy says he's rooting for hurricanes so Mother Nature can get back at us, to say nothing of the rest of it. Further, I read a lot of folks whose politics I disagree with, but who write well - nothing I've read of Walcott's does that for me, sadly. It just ain't that good. (Sheila's way better. If you ask me, HE should be dying to get on HER blogroll.)

Anyway, that's all sort of a buildup to the self-inflicted sickening, which is here for all to see and mock. (Please, see and mock.) Essentially, I've gotten so twisted around by the back-and-forth of the election that I seriously considered a political basis for a rooting interest in baseball.

And you know what? To hell with that. What the hell is going on here? The Rays are a terrific baseball story. I don't care who these guys vote for - just give us some good baseball. (And criminy's sake, I'm a Mets fan so really, anyone but the Phils, right?)

So yeah, this election has officially made me a jackass. In my feeble defense, I do honestly think that the Dalai Obama has a serious messianic complex, aided and abetted by willing fellow-travelers, that makes me only a bit less sick than I make myself. The truth is, the Left is often accused of letting the Government be their god - but their elevation of the Son of Government as our savior and lord makes that goofy cliché seem short of the mark. (Remember, they say this is the guy whose story is worthy of a new Bible chapter, who will still the oceans and heal the sick.) I'm not so sure about stilling the oceans and healing the sick, but I'm quite worried about his spreading the wealth and silencing the dissent.

Ugh. I am just so tired of myself. Tired of all of this hooey. Tired of having to worry that we could elect a tool of the radical marxist left as the actual President of the US. These are signs of ill health, mentally and socially. Ideally it almost shouldn't matter who the President is. The whole of society should be handling the heavy lifting of everyday life, such that government should have influence only over certain matters. I mean, when we were alternating between Grover Alexander and Chester Arthur and all those guys, the country didn't go off the rails. Nobody was willing to scrap large parts of the republic for the sake of enhancing their own authority over people, no matter which party they were in.

Now we're looking at a guy who wants veto authority over people's 1st and 2nd Amendment rights (via the Fairness Doctrine and gun laws that effectively ban ownership), who opposed measures to protect the inherent natural right to self-defense, who would strike down every possible restriction to abortion, who is pretty openly in favor of massive wealth confiscation and disbursment (rather than encouraging the growth of wealth so that everyone has a chance at more), and whose entire record up until now is so underwhelming, he refuses to talk about it. Ask about his past associations and it's "racist"; ask about his planned policies, and people line up to dissect your life and work.

And I'm sick of it, and sick of the hopenchange, and sick of myself, and especially because I can't stop twisting the knife into my own belly.