Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Tuesday or Bust
The Midterm Election is on Tuesday, and, man, I cannot wait. I am so fucking sick of all this shit, I can’t even tell you. I guess I make a pretty poor political junkie, because I should be overdosing right now, and instead I can hardly even look at the crap.
Being a liberal political junkie is sort of like being a Cubs fan. Every once in awhile, they manage to put together a winning team and make it into the post season, but Don Kessinger always always always drops a routine fly allowing the Mets to score three runs in the top of the ninth in game seven, if you know what I mean, and I think you do.
Well, somehow, the Cubs have made into the playoffs again, and the BIG GAME is on Tuesday. The fans are gripping the arms of their chairs waiting for the inevitable Steve Bartman to appear and fuck everything up. The suspense wears me out. I just want to go to bed and try not to think about it and wait until morning to find out what happened. But the suspense never ends. Even if John Kerry doesn’t throw over the first baseman’s head and we make it past the finals, we still have to play in the World Series. It’s too aggravating. I want to return to the comfort of ‘wait-till-next-year.’
But I can’t.
It’s like a car wreck — despite the repugnance of it all, I just can’t turn away. But that’s another metaphor. See what I mean? I can’t even face the thing directly. I need all these fucking metaphors just to discuss it. What hell.
Well, the Cubs have signed Lou Piniella as manager, and rumors are flying that A-Rod might also join the squad. In any event, Cubs General Manager, Jim Hendry has vowed to spend the necessary money to put together a winning team, so the future looks bright for the Cubs once again.
Being a liberal political junkie is sort of like being a Cubs fan. Every once in awhile, they manage to put together a winning team and make it into the post season, but Don Kessinger always always always drops a routine fly allowing the Mets to score three runs in the top of the ninth in game seven, if you know what I mean, and I think you do.
Well, somehow, the Cubs have made into the playoffs again, and the BIG GAME is on Tuesday. The fans are gripping the arms of their chairs waiting for the inevitable Steve Bartman to appear and fuck everything up. The suspense wears me out. I just want to go to bed and try not to think about it and wait until morning to find out what happened. But the suspense never ends. Even if John Kerry doesn’t throw over the first baseman’s head and we make it past the finals, we still have to play in the World Series. It’s too aggravating. I want to return to the comfort of ‘wait-till-next-year.’
But I can’t.
It’s like a car wreck — despite the repugnance of it all, I just can’t turn away. But that’s another metaphor. See what I mean? I can’t even face the thing directly. I need all these fucking metaphors just to discuss it. What hell.
Well, the Cubs have signed Lou Piniella as manager, and rumors are flying that A-Rod might also join the squad. In any event, Cubs General Manager, Jim Hendry has vowed to spend the necessary money to put together a winning team, so the future looks bright for the Cubs once again.
But for the Democrats, the future is now. But instead of playing to win, I fear they are playing to not lose, and that makes me sick with that familiar apprehension. It also makes me wonder why I even follow this sport. I mean, they’re just a bunch of whiny millionaires.
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