My apologies if you came here looking for something of substance. State of the Race will be absent from this post, likewise A Serious Look at the Trump Campaign vis-a-vis DMS-IV. Plenty of other diaries for that, if you’ve still a taste.
This is simply a rant, unadulterated and uncut, about crap I have to read from people every day.
My friends, Facebook and otherwise, are a very diverse bunch. Every morning, noon and night, I see stuff ranging from Hillary Hoo-rah to Lock-Her-Up. Fine with me. Like assholes, everyone’s got one, you know?
What’s really starting to bug me is first-timers. From the B-or-B idiots who are, no kidding, still calling for Hillary Clinton to “step down” so that their hero can “beat Trump 95-to-5” to the people who urge me to watch Dinesh D’Souza “films” so that I’ll, finally, “understand.”
For better or worse, politics has been my life. I was six when I had my first letter to the editor (WaPo, re: Russia/China split) rejected. The role of White House Counselor was explained to me in the morning paper over Raisin Bran during Watergate. As near as I can tell, I was in the basement/mailroom when the gun that killed Rene Schneider was shipped “in the pouch.”
Not bragging (much). It's just that this has been part of my reality since before I felt a girl’s titty.
Which is why I hate environments like Facebook and Twitter and, yes, even this joint at times, during presidential election seasons.
Reminds me much too much of those nights, so long ago, waiting at the stop for the bus to samadhi and then suddenly realizing, “Oh, crap. First timer.” Knowing that you’re going to be spending the night nursing someone through profound realizations like, “I can see right into my hands” and “What if all of this, the whole universe, is, like, a speck of dust in God’s bedroom?”
Over the years, I’ve come to really hate the phrase, “It’s not my first rodeo,” whether applied to tech installs, publicity campaigns, restaurant openings or, in extremely rare instances, rodeos.
But it’s not. And I hate having to pretend to take seriously the revelations of those who’ve just, in their twentieth of seventieth years, discovered that there is such a thing as the United States government and contenders of different parties who wish to steer it.
I’m happy my friends have decided to pay a moment’s attention to the actual machinery that determines the legal status of their lives and pastimes. More power, etc.
But I don’t think I can spend another night nursing someone through their first time.
I’ve got a bus to catch.