Possessing a planet-sized ego, I’m kind of pleased to have my site come up in a search engine which specified “black hot woman,” achieved while keeping all my clothes on, no less. (Careful. There are probably some "not work safe" links on that one. You pervs can thank me later.)
UPDATE: The reference to me as a "black hot woman" at the BET site is gone. No matter. Have at your preferences, pervs. But keep in mind: Someone is watching.
Unfortunately, I’m not feeling so “hot.” It has nothing to do with my looks or my health. It’s just a bit of brain-lock. Like several others, I’m finding all the crazy crap leading up to this year’s presidential election to be too much, even though there have been some contributions to the melee here on this site.
Before roughly 1996, I spent many years not thinking about politics much except to mindlessly punch the card for the Democrat presidential candidate every four years. (That stopped in 2000.) In retrospect, those seem like very innocent times. Of course, there’ll be no going back to that relatively uninformed state, no matter how great conditions *seemed* to be then. (For another relevant metaphor, think Adam and Eve getting booted out of the Garden.)
However, considering the CBS document scandal, the Straw-Man Draft legislation (now deceased, thank God), the increasingly violent dissent from both sides and all of the other insanity, sometimes I long for those days of ignoring the mundane good fortune of being born in the United States. Being ignorant of the likelihood that major media entities like CBS probably have been floating occasional distortions for some time --which is why its bigwigs thought that they could get away with it this time—seem like the days of Shangri-la. Having heard the vague aphorism that politicians were, in general, a group of liars is different than actually seeing televised evidence and reading in print that they are.
To paraphrase Bill Whittle, the world didn’t change; our view of it did (at least some of us).
It’s almost like being drunk for years and, suddenly getting sober. It doesn’t feel good but things look different—sometimes better, but more often than not, worse--in the light of the cold, un-fuzy day.
In that sobriety, one finds out that there are things to take care of that have gone neglected during the binge. In our national sobriety, we find out that things aren’t what they seemed to be when were under the influence of a great many illusions: that we were safe from terrorists (at least on the home front), that France and Germany were two of our most trustworthy allies and that those same two countries were grateful to us for our role in WWII and for protecting them from the designs of the late Soviet Union. (For the record, I never thought that there was any reason to trust Russia, so the role that that nation has played in the recent dramas of world affairs hasn’t surprised me much.)
In my opinion, Senator John Kerry would have this nation go back to the days when—drunk on our delusions--we thought that all of the above were true. That would be fine if terrorists would magically stop terrorizing and listen to reason. That would be fine if the two afore-mentioned “allies” would behave as true allies. Too bad the senator isn’t a magician.
Senator Kerry wants us to disarm—that is obvious from his senate voting record and from his uneven stance on the last three major wars in which the US has been involved. Fine. Let the terrorists go first and then we’ll see.
Those of us who know that none of the domestic issues being brought up in the election run-up matter a whit if we’re dead, want to do our best to vote for the guy who will ensure that our mass domestic death doesn’t occur (again). The strangest phenomenon—to me, at any rate—is that the guy who seems to have done the most to keep that next mass death from happening seems to bring out violent, wigged-out opposition in roughly half of the constituent population that he’s attempting to protect. Call this bottle “September 10, 2001.”
I hate the world as it is, but pretending as though what is *isn’t* will not change its reality. And I don’t *want* to go back to being oblivious to the realities of this world, no matter how pleasant that obliviousness may have seemed. If we must die, let it not be like hogs. Or like fools; trusting those who have long ago proven to be untrustworthy.