This Is Not A Blog About Politics.
The hunt for this blog's theme continues. For a while, I considered using this space as the ongoing showcase in which I would document my endeavor for rock-hard abs. I thought it would be funny and, at the end of it, hey-- rock-hard abs. But then certain things began to occur to me. For one, accepting this as a theme would require finally admitting, after 32 years of general doughiness, that I do not have, nor ever have had rock-hard abs. This would be a major blow, of course, as my metabolism and general physique will never be as inherently decent to me as it no doubt was in the past. I snubbed my body's generosities, usually electing to instead indulge in just one more hour surfing the web, one more DVR'd episode of King of the Hill, one more slice of mushroom-garlic pizza... And suddenly my best days-- my most possible days-- are behind me.
The second problem with electing rock-hard abs as the theme for this blog is that it would require me to do things like a) photograph my cartoonishly sculpted torso and post it on the web and b) crunches and running and other versions of what they generally call exercise. Have you ever exercised? It's not fun. Anyway, the whole thing began to seem just laughable.
And so the hunt continues. And, though I've already decided this is not going to be a blog about politics, I did feel the need to definitively state somewhere that last night's debate was a joke. A joke about a sham. A joke about a sham that centered on a debacle.
While both the Republican and Democratic parties which comprise our two-party joke of a democratic republic have long been manipulated by the country's true Powers-that-Be, it is clear to me now that these very same insidious forces are in full control of The Media-- have been for God only knows how long-- and though Hillary was long-ago cast to play the role of the Democrat in the upcoming Presidential election, Obama's unexpected viability as a challenger in this primary represents a very real threat to that same cabal of unknown puppetmasters. Last night's debate convinced me that the media are so frantic to find Obama's "Dean Scream," they've resorted to beating the bushes with wildly irresponsible and jingoistic questions on live national prime-time television, hoping he'll get rattled and bite.
I'm also more certain than ever that if he manages to weather the media scrutiny for the rest of the year and emerge from November as the nation's 44th President, three options will remain: a) Martial law will be declared prior to his inauguration; b) He will be assassinated before the election, leaving Hillary to step up; c) He will take office and lead our nation into a saner, more responsible, and innovative age, maturing the national dialogue, beginning the restoration of American integrity, pride, and productivity, and going on to become one of the most adored and effective Presidents in history.*
Yeah, I drink the Kool-Aid-- so what? It's delicious: it tastes like Hope.
*Until a billion Chinese soldiers kick down our doors and burn our history books in late 2012.
The second problem with electing rock-hard abs as the theme for this blog is that it would require me to do things like a) photograph my cartoonishly sculpted torso and post it on the web and b) crunches and running and other versions of what they generally call exercise. Have you ever exercised? It's not fun. Anyway, the whole thing began to seem just laughable.
And so the hunt continues. And, though I've already decided this is not going to be a blog about politics, I did feel the need to definitively state somewhere that last night's debate was a joke. A joke about a sham. A joke about a sham that centered on a debacle.
While both the Republican and Democratic parties which comprise our two-party joke of a democratic republic have long been manipulated by the country's true Powers-that-Be, it is clear to me now that these very same insidious forces are in full control of The Media-- have been for God only knows how long-- and though Hillary was long-ago cast to play the role of the Democrat in the upcoming Presidential election, Obama's unexpected viability as a challenger in this primary represents a very real threat to that same cabal of unknown puppetmasters. Last night's debate convinced me that the media are so frantic to find Obama's "Dean Scream," they've resorted to beating the bushes with wildly irresponsible and jingoistic questions on live national prime-time television, hoping he'll get rattled and bite.
I'm also more certain than ever that if he manages to weather the media scrutiny for the rest of the year and emerge from November as the nation's 44th President, three options will remain: a) Martial law will be declared prior to his inauguration; b) He will be assassinated before the election, leaving Hillary to step up; c) He will take office and lead our nation into a saner, more responsible, and innovative age, maturing the national dialogue, beginning the restoration of American integrity, pride, and productivity, and going on to become one of the most adored and effective Presidents in history.*
Yeah, I drink the Kool-Aid-- so what? It's delicious: it tastes like Hope.
*Until a billion Chinese soldiers kick down our doors and burn our history books in late 2012.
Labels: theme blog Obama politics abs
posted by Blackbird at 9:18 AM
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