My God if I never have to sit through another Town Hall with John McCain it will be too soon! Holy crap, this was the worst TV pilot ever…!
So, here’s the deal: Obama did well, by which I mean he was predictably all Obama-like, same-old, same-old, he looks like he could do the job okay. He looks like an acceptably intelligent guy, who is not a hothead or a recalcitrant ideologue. And McCain. Is. Just. Pissing me off, now! I mean why the hell is he even running? Just to gain “victory” in Iraq? Is Obama dangerous to America’s interests, for real? Could he not do the job, is that what we’re saying?
Let’s suppose they would each do a fairly passable job, within a fairly confined range of good policies and dumbass fuck-ups. Now who would you vote for? But uh-oh, wait a minute…I actually have ZERO confidence in McCain’s ability not to make things a whole lot worse, in a whole lot of a hurry. McCain is real old, but strangely nothing about him seems quite so ancient as his use of the Bush-league bullshit rhetoric that unseated him in the Republican runoff lo these many disastrous years ago, when I liked him a lot better than I do now. It is the language of state-bankrupters, reputation-killers, liars and fakers. It is the cant of the…
Well, this is still basically a PG-rated blog, so I won’t say what it’s the cant of. But it is. And that’s not too cool.
Christopher Hitchens, the journalistic equivalent of Dennis Miller, once opined in his dry and brilliant way
that electing John Kerry as President instead of George W. Bush would have led to Hieronymous Bosch-like scenes of Americans being driven through the streets by Islamic terrorists wielding fiery cricket bats, always paddling, paddling, paddling…what America really needed, he insisted, was a Chief Executive who was dumb enough to do the job.
He was full of shit then, like McCain is full of shit now.
Poor Hitch: such a fine mind, but it seeks out the going ideological crutch like a baby elephant’s trunk seeks out its momma’s tail…a flaw all the more tragic, for being so mysterious. But McCain inspires rather less sympathy: he’s declared the kid gloves off, but I think what he really meant to say is head injury on!! Flame down! He’s not making sense any more. He’s in too deep. He’s fucked it up.
He’s fucked it up.
And what moronic Krishna, you have to wonder, is whispering in his ear to commit to this battle with such Daliesque weaponry? Obama talks about America leading its friends and allies; McCain, in response, brandishes a fish. And delivers, not a speech, but an ululation. If a stutter can really ululate.
How is this happening?
I’ve expressed some sympathy for McCain in the past, but…after forty, every man’s responsible for his face, you know? And this campaign just hit forty, I’m sorry to say. I find it incredible that McCain prefers this Town Hall format, a format in which he looks like a damn fool half the time, and an old damn fool the other half. Hey, my Dad is McCain’s age: he thinks he’s too old.
All the old guys I know, who are McCain’s age: they all think he’s too old.
He’s too damn old.
And my natural sympathy for him does not extend to giving him a pass on making crooked remarks in the name of “at the end of the day, it’s a game we’re playing.” This is not Survivor: President. Obama keeps saying he substantially agrees with McCain on this thing and that thing, only minus the short-sightedness. This is a great note for Obama to hit: he agrees with McCain on a lot of things. And so what does this mean?
It means McCain agrees with Obama on these same things.
But you’ll never hear him say that. And that right there is where the fucking unforgivable dishonesty lies. Obama is saying that while he may have a healthy ego, that doesn’t mean he can’t listen.
McCain is saying that his ego is practically shot to pieces by this time, so he won’t.
And I liked this show better the first time it toured, when it was called Bob Dole.
Against all reason, I still like Bob Dole. Like Norm MacDonald, I’d have a beer with Bob Dole…and if he’d let me, I’d pay for the both of us.
But at this point, I don’t think I’d let John McCain buy me a bottle of Armagnac.
If the kid gloves are to be off, let them be off. I used to like John McCain. I may like him one day in the future.
But today he made me look at him doing his Town Hall act. And today I blame.
Today I blame.
Now go read Peter B. Gillis’ latest, if you please: on how a young Earth makes a sad universe, with sad and depressed people and stars in it. And tell me you don’t feel like rising up and making a change. This is the worst children’s story ever. Sarah Palin (who as I believe I’ve said before, I wouldn’t trust to match my socks) can see the frickin’ Northern Lights from where she is. She can see all the stars, not just some. She can see everything.
But only, I guess, if she looks.
I have just about had it with this American election. This shouldn’t have happened. It’s extremely frustrating.
And now back to MGK.