I’m not the smartest person in the world, nor am I the most highly educated. But I never paid anybody to write my term papers, either, so that probably puts me ahead of a lot of graduate students. The point is, I guess, that I’m not a blithering idiot and I’m not laboring under the illusion that if someone on TV says it or it’s typed, it must be fact. And even though they’ve started playing Pearl Jam and Nirvana on the classic rock radio stations, I’m a young woman. Despite that fact, I still manage to have (as my father would say) all of my poop in one sock.
The problem is that we’re coming up on my least favorite time of all time: election season. Soon, the television and the radio will be flooded with horrible, sensationalized political ads urging the populace to put their faith in some douchebag they’ve never met because the other guy is even douche-ier and probably gay or a terrorist or has congress with the devil. Or all three. I will be lectured on family values. I will be told that any number of things are what’s wrong with America today and only <insert name here> can hold back the flood of immorality, debauchery, and Sharia. <insert name here> — usually white, usually male, usually “Christian” — will be tough on crime and never ever ever cater to the will of big business. <insert name here> will have a proven track record. <insert name here> knows what’s best for America. <insert name here> knows what’s best for me.
This is all, of course, utter bullshit.
I dislike other people intruding into my life. I dislike being told what to do. And, maybe even most of all, I dislike being lied to.
I understand the need for government, maybe even more than most people. I’ve studied American history. I’ve studied American government. And I may not be a Constitutional scholar, but I’ve read it (yes, the whole thing), so I know what it says and what it doesn’t. Maybe I’m in the minority here, but I’m of the opinion that it’s one of the most perfect documents ever written. But that’s not the point.
The point is that I know when you’re full of it, okay? I’m exactly what you fear the most, <insert name here>. I’m an educated voter. I know when you fudge the facts. I know when you overstep your bounds. I know when you flat out lie to me. And I don’t appreciate it. I don’t appreciate having to pay for your bad decisions. I don’t appreciate your condescension. And I certainly don’t appreciate your unshakable belief that you know better than I do.
I know your game, <insert name here>. You rely on the laziness and apathy of others. You prey on the desperate and the weak-minded. You thrive on the misplaced hope of the masses. Your stock and trade is sowing mistrust and anger and hatred. You make no distinction between disagreeing and arguing, between arguing and fighting, between fighting and war. It is not in your best interest to listen or to compromise or even to accomplish anything because somewhere along the line you forgot that what you have is a temporary assignment.
I’m exhausted, <insert name here>. I’m so very, very tired. And I feel like I spend most of my spare energy being angry at you. This is not a healthy relationship. You promise me all these nice things, you promise me you’ll change. But you know, <insert name here>, it’s always the same. It’s not me. It’s not even you. It’s the other guys at the office, they just won’t play ball, the boss won’t listen to my ideas, that big project went to someone else, no baby I still love you I promise we can go out this weekend and do something nice just the two of us just like old times I swear there’s no one else come on baby just give me one more chance we’ve had some good times baby don’t throw it away over one little mistake…
So go on, <insert name here>. Tell me how it’ll be different this time. How it’ll be better. How we need to get back to old-fashioned family values. How we need change. How much better it’ll be. How horrible the other guy is.
Tell me like you mean it, <insert name here>.