Sarah Palin’s answer to Charlie Gibson’s question about whether or not she had any concerns about handling the job of President of the United States, was something like, “No, Charley. I don’t have doubt, I didn’t blink. I can handle it. I can handle the mission.” I know I’m paraphrasing, but that moment keeps haunting me. I wonder if Bush ever wakes up in the middle of the night, now that he’s nearing the end of his second term, thinking, “Wow, a complete fucking mess I’ve made of this country.” I bet Laura does. (Which is probably why she smokes.)
Yesterday, while walking on the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer walk, I was talking to someone who said her chief concern about Obama is: “He will take away my home. He will take all my money.” I didn’t even have enough presence of mind to respond other than to say, “Whaaaat?”
As a friend of mine said, if people in this country are really stupid enough to vote for McCain and the Republicans again then we are in such a sorry, sick state, that nothing we can say or do is going to heal it other than to go through the sickness and hopefully come out the other side.
I am finishing the Russian novel “Oblomov” by Ivan Goncharov (it’s 450 or so pages and it’s taken me awhile) – but everything is finally working out for Oblomov, who spent most of his life in bed avoiding any kind of responsibility or stress. Truthfully, as crazy a life as that is, it’s looking better and better to me.
And maybe we could ship Sarah Palin to Russia, since she can see it from Alaska?