Those of us who pay any attention to politics are, I’m afraid, in for a truly horrible summer and autumn. And for even worse after Nov. 3.
And I’m not sure it’s going to be possible NOT to pay attention. I think we’ve been cast back to the (somehow both cynical and incredulous) dread and horror and intrusive boredom in which we lived and breathed and had our being during the Watergate hearings.
The campaign is going to be awful. The only possible respite I can see is the Dems efforts to make each other look “worse than Trump!” which of course has its inevitable flip-side: Trump really isn’t so bad….
Exhibit A: Warren’s quotation of Bloomberg’s fat-broads-horsefaced-lesbians remarks. Those do, in my opinion. demonstrate a real, deep-seated contempt for my gender. They contrast the more voluptuous female physique unflatteringly with the lean mean male form, and they imply that any woman who gets in the great lord’s way is only doing so because she’s too ugly to attract the attention she should be craving: his. In comparison, Trump’s remark, “Oooh, I love beautiful! “ is almost—no, it is— courtly.
But I know to my sorrow that are more than enough SWAPs (suburban white American princesses) who (ya think?) won’t see it my way.
And lemme ask you, O Ratty: no mater who wins, can you envision peace and acceptance on the morning of Nov 4, 2020?
In the first place, I’ll be amazed if we have a definitive result then. I mean, if we can’t now even conduct caucuses (cauci?) which have gone relatively smoothly since forever, what do you think certain states are gonna do with their popular vote?
But whenever the dust does eventually settle, I think we’ll be looking at an artifice in ruin. And there’ll be no shortage of volunteers to push over whatever walls remain standing.
Have you any hope to offer?