Jesus! Where will it end? How low do you have to stoop in this country to be president?
the desire now is to make a big, pissy statement. Something large and doomed and eloquent—what Ahab might bellow at the whale as it drags him down: From hell's heart, I stab at thee! (Actually, I believe the Swift Boat Veterans for Screwing Kerry at All Costs beat me to that one.)
But the election has left me drained—fresh out of bright ideas and hot emotions. I feel like a carjacking victim, sprawled in the street as the Pennsylvania Avenue Crips drive off with the country, my kids and groceries still in the back seat. My heart has sunk so far I can't find it to wear on my sleeve.
It's not so much Bush himself who knots my gut. Let me quote historian Garry Wills: "Whether you like George Bush or John Kerry is beside the point. One must vote for the constituencies that are at the core of the candidate's campaign and future ability to govern. That means, in the case of the current administration, that a vote for the Republicans is a vote for Halliburton and contractors in the oil world ... for a Cheney vision of unilateral action in a world of nations dismissed as cowards or fools, for an economy based on tax cuts, deficits and resistance to social programs."
In voting for Bush, America has opted for government as faith-based initiative; for an uber-conservative Supreme Court; for the Patriot Act; for government with a CEO mentality, which is all about incentives for the guys in the corner office; for an administration that will now have no reason not to indulge the anti-intellectual, right-wing theocrats who have always been its ardent supporters.
But, hey, what do I know? I backed a loser, and for the moment, I'm inclined to agree with blogger James Wolcott: "Should Bush win, I shall post a statement of philosophical resignation tentatively titled 'Good, Go Ahead, America, Choke on Your Own Vomit, You Deserve to Die.'"
But that feeling will pass, and then I propose we do what losers do: slash their tires and egg their houses. (OK, it'll take a while for that feeling to pass.) Then we hold the winners accountable. As we cool off our election-sizzled nerves, avoid checking out library books John Ashcroft would disapprove of and pray that no one retires from the Supreme Court, we also make a checklist of every hollow promise this administration made in order to win. And four years from now, we present them an annotated version and demand a few explanations.