Thursday, August 28, 2008
Think of the Kittens
Monkey asked why am I not commenting on the Democratic National Convention. An excellent question, with a very clear cut answer: because they don't mean jack any more. Years ago the delegates from the various states would travel to the conventions, and wheedle and bargain and make deals, and then the whole thing would culminate with the announcing of the candidate. Now We The People(tm) decide long before the convention who the candidates will be. This renders the conventions little more than masturbatory exercises where people who were tearing at each others' throats just a few short months ago now pretend to be bosom buddies. The speeches are pointless grandstanding and posturing that take preaching to the choir to unbelievable new levels of self-gratification. If old wives' tales truly reflected the universe, every one would leave these conventions wearing dark glasses and carrying a white cane. Now I would never poo-poo any reason for a great party, and I am sure that they don't get much better unless you have a ticket to Mardi Gras at Heff's place, but that doesn't mean that I have to watch the revelry.
But fear not, gentle readers, once the debates begin ready yourselves for some genuine vintage Marius outrage and indignation.
Yours, under God, indivisible,