I share concerns about President Barack Obama that some of my Republican and Libertarian/libertarian friends have. High among those concerns, I don’t expect the trend of irresponsible government spending to be curbed under his administration, especially with a possible Democratic super majority coming in the U.S. Senate. I have a philosophical aversion to any party having that much power, and that goes for Democrats too. This prospect does worry me some.
But ultimately, I was unable to look at the past eight years and say, “hell yeah, give me some more of that.”
Not to dwell for too long about just what “that” was, but I believe that as a highly narcissistic country we elect presidents that are symbols of what we think we are or aspire to be. The past eight years demonstrated that symbolism is important, even though it may seem superficial.
And for the past eight years, America the symbol has been a belligerent drunken uncle. He’s blood and you love him. As such, you’d do almost anything for him, even if it means bailing him out of jail after his fourth DUI. You want him to dry up and get on the straight and narrow, you really do. But you resent him and are mortified by his behavior.
I don’t know which relative President Barack Obama will turn America into, but I know at least we won’t be that guy anymore. And even if he makes some decisions I disagree with, I will at least know he didn’t make them because a buddy bet him five dollars he wouldn’t.
He’s a symbol that says we’re optimistic about our future; that we value deliberation and intellect; that we can disagree without hating each other; and that we can do some good in the world without a drunken brawl breaking out. That was enough reason for me to support him, and trumped all of my other concerns.
It’s why I feel relief today and not panic, even though the world offers us many reasons to panic.
I haven’t been in much of a blogging mood lately beyond NCAA Picks. It is worth noting that — barring another mishap of some sort — I’ll be having my wisdom tooth surgery for real on Monday. More on that in my original post about it.
Other items:
There’s a presidential election in less than a month. I have not written much about it here. Maybe not anything actually. If you can look at the last eight years and say, “oh yeah, gimme some more of that!” there’s probably not much I could say to you that’s going to change your mind.
I did have some fun with Photoshop the other night as I was waiting for the second presidential debate to start though, my friend:
Perhaps I’m a masochist, because I bought tickets to the Tennessee-UGA game this weekend. I’ll be traveling with Alyssa, who is good people even if she is a UGA fan.
UGA is a 13-point favorite despite losing the last two games by a combined score of 84-47. Even though history tells us anything can happen in this game, I picked UGA to cover in my picks. The tickets weren’t expensive, fortunately, and they do sell alcohol in Athens the last time I checked.
My 30th birthday is coming up in just over a month. I have no idea how I want to go about marking the occasion. Any ideas?
Not too long ago, Amber and I took a landlord from an apartment building we used to live in to court — magistrate court, to be specific. We have yet to write much about this encounter, but probably will someday. That’s not what this post is about.
This post is about clown parades.
Magistrate court is a clown parade: an endless source of amusement, sadness and unsettling epiphanies about how miserable, stupid and unfair life can be.
In magistrate court, people frequently forgo the services of an actual lawyer to sue and defend themselves against lawsuits. With rare exception, these people have not the slightest idea what they’re doing. They fill out forms incorrectly, they speak out of turn, their arguments (if you can call them that) trail off into tangents and they are reprimanded by the judge and bailiffs over-and-over again.
Sometimes people just can’t afford a lawyer. Sometimes people have seen enough episodes of Law and Order to think they can get by against an actual lawyer. Regardless of the reason, where magistrate court stops being amusing and morphs into the macabre is people often will torpedo a legitimate claim with their ineptitude.
In one case that came up in court before ours, a man appeared to have a legitimate beef with his landlord. I don’t remember the details of the case, and they’re unimportant now. The man was suing the landlord for probably a couple of thousand dollars. When the judge asked him to explain how he came up with the number, the man just said something like, “that’s what seemed about right.” Not surprisingly, he was lectured by the judge and the case was thrown out.
I was reminded of this clown parade by another one that’s been unfolding this week.
President Bush, Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson and Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernake asked Congress for $700 billion this week to bail out some failed private investments.
When asked for a justification for this number, a Treasury spokesperson said, “It’s not based on any particular data point. We just wanted to choose a really large number.”
Now, if that poor sap in magistrate court is required to provide a reason to ask for a couple of thousand dollars, one would think that the president, the Treasury Department and the Federal Reserve would need to provide a reason when asking for $700 billion.
Larry Kudlow: I want to start with this, an oddball question. Senator McCain says it’s too pristine to drill, Senator Obama says the drilling won’t work. What is your response to this? How do you fight back?
Sarah Palin: Well, it will work. And Senator McCain is wrong on that issue.
