Warning: the following editorial is from someone who knows jack shit about the way the country runs or the backgrounds of the candidates, and understands politics about as well as a sheep understands a microwave. The author is simply giving a view “from his front porch” as it were, and as such should be ignored like a toddler amused by his own farts.
So much is being made of politics at the moment that I felt uncharacteristically compelled for some reason to write about it. Over the past few weeks I’ve ventured into the dark cul-de-sacs of modern politics, to try to make sense of it all.
The two candidates, which I will henceforth refer to as “Obamney” for the sake of expedience, are to me just two rich guys, both groomed for the position, politicians to the core, and so removed from the daily reality of Joe and Jane Blow that they might as well be living on Mars. So why only two guys, other than the massive funding the words “Democrat” and “Republican” can conjure? I guess because Americans like choice but not too many choices. Republican or Democrat. Coke or Pepsi. Beatles or Elvis. Georgia or Georgia Tech. “Always two there are,” Yoda said, and I think he’s right.
People wail, “Obamney will destroy this country!” No, he won’t. He won’t. He can’t. No one President has the power to destroy the country. The smart men who put this thing together designed it that way. No President will willingly march the U.S. off a cliff. Why? Because history will remember, and no matter what any politician says, he or she wants to be remembered in a positive way. Also, with a much background checking as is done today, does anyone actually think that someone hell-bent on the nation’s demise will make it to the White House? Really?
And thus I wander on, looking at all of this activity and angst, fascinated by just how much this gets people stirred up.
I think its funny that people exhibit the same behaviors at rallies and vote counts that they do when at sporting events, cheering for their favorite team. A friend of mine was at a pro-Bama bar the nights the tallies came in, and the local Democratic Party leader actually grabbed an Obama sign, ran down to the Romney headquarters just down the sidewalk, and did a little dance with it in front of the building.
For some, politics is just another spectator sport, so pick a team, wear the colors, and let your spirit show. Or possibly worse, support a candidate because one’s family does. You know, because blind, unthinking democracy sounds like a safe path to a happier tomorrow.
You know what I’ve concluded? It really doesn’t make a damn bit of difference.
Ultimately, for most of us, it’s no different than when we were peasants in the Dark Ages. Someone comes riding through the village shouting, “King Fleabeard is dead, long live King Cyril the Flaccid!”
You stop hoeing, look up from your turnip row, and watch the crier ride by. Then, you look back down and go right back to digging up those fucking turnips. And why?
Because this change means nothing to the day-to-day workings of your life, and probably never will, outside of extraordinary crap happening.
I view a President as a boulder dropped into the far side of a lake filled with rocks and sand bars. Yes, it makes a huge splash, but by the time the ripples get to me, they’ve been mediated and slowed so much by the obstacles that only a little of that momentum remains. The House, Senate, the Supreme Court, state government–these are those obstacles. I care more about a new supervisor than who will be in the White House because that has immediate and lasting impact. It’s all just too far away in the castle for a simple peasant to give more than a passing shit about.
Did I vote? No, I did not. A vote is a powerful thing, like a gun. Like politics, I don’t know how to use a gun, so in my untrained hands, both could cause a lot of trouble.