Squandering Our Capital

We are told it is unwise to spend all our capital. To hang onto at least some of it, particularly in these perilous times.

Capital. Reputation. Respect. Good Will. All these, and more, are being squandered by Bill and Hillary Clinton in the shameful campaign they are waging against a man who is no match for their mendacity.

Racism, sexism, lies, slander, insinuations with no basis in fact; the list is endless. I cannot vote for the confused warrior John McCain, but if the Clintons persist – through their tricks – to wrest the presidency away from Barack Obama, I will be hard put to vote for a woman who shows unmistakable evidence of being a compulsive liar. Whose lust for this office is frightening.

Agree? Disagree? Tell me…

Red Shoes

In the late ‘40s, a movie called “The Red Shoes” – which has since become a classic – detailed the way in which said shoes developed a life of their own, causing the death of the beautiful ballerina who could not arrest their movements. It is a complex film; an exploration of obsessive devotion to one’s art.

The Pope’s predilection for wearing red shoes brought the movie to mind, and his comments at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington, D.C. evoked the obsessive compulsion of the Pontiff to turn the Catholic Church’s shame into a lecture on the evils of secularism.

We all know why the head of the Church avoided Boston during his trip: scene of the most horrific sexual abuse by members of his flock on the youth of the city’s parishes. In his papal way, the Pope managed to tie such abuse – and countless others – to the general lowering of values caused by “the subtle influence of secularism.” As a proud non-believer, this seems to stretch the truth into the arena of – horrors! – mortal sin. One warranting confession and absolution for even the Pope.

I admit to stretching, too. To the confluence of Hillary – and we all know she is a bastion of truth and integrity – pointing manicured fingers at every sentence coming out of the mouth of her splendid opponent for the presidency, Barack Obama. Attempting to divert attention from one’s own malfeasance in office to the supposed defects in another, is an approach favored by those who tout sanctity in both the religious and political arenas.

To quote Obama, “for shame” on both their houses – the Pope’s and Hillary’s.

Comments? Rebuttals? All are welcome…

Hope

As a ridiculously devout abstainer of all things technological – someone who has a symbiotic relationship with my beloved IBM Selectric II typewriter – I am so grateful to friends who make joining the current century possible for me. This blog is turning out to be a joy: getting political and personal feelings and thoughts out of my head – heretofore only available by way of newspaper/magazine print – and out on the space highway.

Barack Obama. Not since I gave my allegiance to Bobby Kennedy have I felt so inspired and hopeful for true, meaningful, purposeful change. Yes, that word has been short-changed and even demeaned by people like McCain and Hillary; however, this man, this incredible man with his incredible heritage, makes the daily indignities of life bearable.

Those who bring him down; those determined to blame him for his pastor’s words; those who continue to support the chameleon-like Hillary, in spite of her racist rhetoric, bewilder me. A determination to feel “entitled” to be president, no matter the destruction of the party she represents, bewilders me.

I remember, during Bobby’s tragically brief campaign, people reaching out to him. To touch him. To make contact with him, no matter how brief the connection. And I see it now with Obama – the urge to make contact, even momentarily, with a person of exquisite verbal magic. But his words aren’t superficial, nor said for effect; they have deep roots in his very being. In his heart and superb cortex.

Hope. I still have hope that this country will realize the potential of Barack Obama, and for his capacity to create enlightment and reconciliation. For restoring our country’s reputation and regard in this troubled world of ours.

Romance

Once upon a time, songs and poems asked questions, both poignant and whimsical. A poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning both asked and answered a forthright one: “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.” Hell, even Freud mused – with a bewildered lilt to his musing: “What do women want?”

Which led me to remembering a vintage song – “Isn’t it Romantic?” A love song; a melodious love song. Now, the word “romantic” has taken on a brand new hue – a new place in our lexicon – for our president has used it in connection with our invasion and occupation of Iraq. George W. Bush recently opined, as only he can, that war is romantic. That our brave young men and women are engaged in a romantic endeavor, and that he, yes he, envies them.

We have become accustomed to listening to the rantings of a man to whom English is a third language, but this time it takes the – if not the cake – the vacant doughnut hole. Soldiers in a deliberately chosen war, who are dying for no reason, are taking part in a romantic adventure? Seeing residents of a sovereign country slaughtered, and its infrastructure destroyed is romantic? Having our VA hospitals overflowing with the mentally and physically damaged is romantic? Death is romantic?

If we elect John McCain, this romanticism will continue. If we elect Hillary Clinton, whose salivating obsession to return to the White House is paramount, we may well be succumbing to a different kind of nostalgic romanticism. Barack Obama has no notions about combining romance with death, devastation and destruction. His is the kind of reasoned, compassionate intellect which forbids confusing romance with providing excuses for ending life.

This is written not only more in sorrow than anger, but in a full court despair. Yet, with hope still lingering in the corners of my outraged heart and head.

A Slice of Liberal Tongue on Wry

Once again, we will have the political groundhog—crawling out of his hole every four years—exercising his ego via declaring for the presidency. Yes, for the third time, Ralph Nader—a veritable nadir of decency—is bent on playing his favorite role: that of self-serving spoiler.

Barack Obama is more than a candidate; his campaign has become a movement, inspiring heretofore unlikely voters to participate in an election of extreme importance. For seven years, we have been held virtual hostage to an administration which bows to no constraints. George W. Bush, and his frightening cohorts, have led us into a war of their choosing, which has been transformed into an occupation.

In the process, not only have we sacrificed the lives of our own young men and women, but have succeeded in destroying a sovereign nation, along with thousands of its people.

This is the human cost; the economic one is almost too vast to comprehend. Those who come after us will pay the price for this wanton spending on death, when our own country – and its residents – continue to face a crumbling infrastructure, to say nothing of dual losses of jobs and homes.

But there is more: our standing in the community of nations has sunk to an ominous low. We are, sadly but justifiably, regarded as bullies by those who regard for what America has stood for was once a matter of pride and respect.

This is the time – when hopes are high that the Democratic Party will prevail in November – that Nader once again pursues his hopeless dream of accomplishing the impossible. All he will achieve is to help John McCain continue the administration we are now being victimized by.

For shame, Ralph Nader. And for shame anyone who would waste a ballot on a man who licks his lips at once more delivering a body blow in his hopeless quest. One that he knows is without hope.

This is a new Blog – one reflecting the feelings and opinions of a writer; a woman of “a certain age” who is passionate about the prospect of change. The kind of change and, yes, progressive hope, embodied in and by Barack Obama.

Comments are welcome – are, indeed, solicited. May we continue a mutually rewarding conversation on issues and concerns that resonate with anyone reading this debut piece.--Barbara Rich