Politics, Get Thee From Me!
Fri., January 18, 02:17 PM
I can’t keep my own promises either; though I try to ignore the news, the primaries impinge on my consciousness again and again. All of a sudden there are people talking about the economy; are they saying anything I haven’t been saying for some time? Consider this paragraph from a May 2003 post about the economy:
Has anyone noticed what the Iraqi war didn’t do — shore up the economy? Historically, wars have brought more jobs and with them, increased spending; the economy gets stronger. Maybe my area is not representative of the rest of the country, but to me it looks as if more and more jobs are disappearing. Just because something worked before doesn’t mean it will work again, because the variables are different. Even though it’s costly to pay the troops, it would be sheer havoc if we decided to set all those people loose on the economy. And how do you fund a tax cut in the midst of all this? Is Mr. Dubya going to use his credit card? What a revoltin’ development this is!
Now Mr. Romney, for example, is going to bring jobs back to Michigan. Really? He didn’t mention where he is planning to get them. And the federal government is going to inject a few tax rebates into the economy. I wish us all luck.
I do not want to listen to the candidates, because all we can hear is how they campaign; we haven’t got a clue as to what they can truly accomplish. Can you see a President Obama putting forth a “hopeful” policy that the congress will vote for? I can’t. Ms. Clinton knows what that’s like, and I cannot imagine why she is putting herself in that position again.
Incidentally, I feel as if what I wrote about women running for president is coming to pass. The view of Hillary Clinton as a candidate is distorted by everything else we know — or think we know — about her. Froma Harrop, a columnist for the Providence Journal, wrote an excellent article about the press treatment of Clinton on Sunday, January 13, 2008. (I have to include the date, because my newspaper ran it several days afterward.) Above all, I do not want journalists deciding who will be president.
I did a Harris Poll survey recently, one that was at least a little different. After the eligibility screening, it asked in what month I was born, and that determined which candidate they would ask me about. The survey then proceeded to show me videos of Barack Obama and ask questions. After the multiple-choice, they did include the opportunity for me to expound on my opinions. I can only hope I got my point across: that the programs sound very good, but I don’t believe they can be executed.
Frankly, I think the poll was testing the reaction to the speeches, rather than whether I would actually vote for the candidate. Tell me, please, am I supposed to be voting for the candidate or his speechwriter?
I will mention another reservation I have. Why the assumption that there is a “black community” that will vote as a unit? All you have to do is look at how well Jesse Jackson supported Shirley Chisholm in 1972. I dislike Al Sharpton enough to doubt anything that comes out of his mouth, even if he said the sky is blue. And Oprah Winfrey, for all her good intentions, is not a political expert.
You may feel that this makes me racist — particularly if you don’t know me. The fact of the matter is, I like Obama. I thoroughly enjoyed his Dreams From My Father, understanding much of his soul searching. He began to understand the difference between the old order, when a chief could protect control the community, and the breakdown of this order when new people and customs came in and, as always, I liked the logic involved. (Hey, I wrote about that too.) Unfortunately, the people I like best personally don’t have an ice cube’s chance in hell to be an effective president. If you would like to set up a charming figurehead for four years, maybe he’s your man.
Speaking of not trusting anyone any more, have you read about Omar Osama bin Laden? Without renouncing his father, he believes that there are more peaceful ways to defend Islam. A nice-looking young fella like that — I wish I could believe him.
