As you know, we streamed the second presidential debate live and will do the same with the next one. In case you missed any of them, we have all three debates available in their entirety—just follow this link. And the last one … well … it was worth watching. Mitt Romney outdid himself by telling 31 lies in 41 minutes—the funniest of which was when he claimed that it took the president 14 days to call the Libya incident an “act of terror” when in fact he did so the very next day. Obama sat smugly by and watched poor old Mitt walk into a gigantic pile of shit—and when he did, I swear the president was looking for someone to high five.
Oh hell yes, there were a lot of high notes in this last little dustup. We could talk about Mitt’s binders full of women or I could point out that he treated Obama like an employee—or worse, like a wayward child—but what would be the point? The film—and the facts—speak for themselves.
My 4-year-old son watched with passing interest—he pointed to Romney and said, “Daddy, I wanna be a zombie for Halloween, like that.”
Not that Romney behaved like a zombie—that was Obama’s big trick in the first debate—but my boy’s seen a movie or two having to do with the undead, and I guess he was trying to tell me that Mitt looks—to him, at least—like some kind of goddamned monster. And you know what? He’s not too far off the mark. The presidential hopeful behaves like a ghoul pretty much all of the time—both in his personal and political life—but his visage reminds me of a cheap Halloween mask—the kind of thing that you could find hanging on a clearance rack in your local drugstore on the 31st as the sun goes down. I have a rubber Nixon head adorning one of my walls, and while the features are slightly different, it’s an almost perfect match for Mitt’s pallor and plastic features.
His sons look that way too. The resemblance is striking—and somewhat troubling, since we know that even when Mitt Romney is eventually planted in a hole, where he deserves to be, his greedy and short-sighted legacy will live on. And speaking of his kids, one of his sons got on the radio and told anyone who would listen that he felt like punching Obama in the face. Someone might want to start a file on him.
Anyway, by the time the debate was over, my son had thrown up and shit on the floor. He recovered rather quickly, but it made me wonder if campaign bloat can also affect toddlers. Apparently, it can.
On another note, here are a bunch of millionaires who are not greed-crazed pathological money hoarders—they actually don’t mind contributing their fair share to this country and its people. So if you’re one of those folks who don’t think that the rich should pay more in taxes—especially if you’re not even rich yourself—that says a lot about your character … and it isn’t good.
And then there’s this rousing video that Jay-Z made, designed to fire up potential voters and get their asses to the polls on November 6. In it, Obama says, “Whatever your politics, or your party, you should vote this fall.” Republicans, on the other hand, use intimidation and voter suppression and the myth of “voter fraud” to make sure that a key bunch of Democrats just stay home.
Huh. This column is turning into nothing more than a collection of videos. Well … so be it. Time is running short and lately I’ve been thinking that if I didn’t ramble on for quite so long, I’d be more apt to write regularly like I should. But I’m a news and politics junkie … and when I’m sifting through six different newspapers, I have a hard time not including most of that. This column usually ends up being a quick recap of whatever happens on the day that I write it—and that’s good for you folks who don’t have time to read each story or who don’t really give a fuck about the details. I know that I don’t, which is why I rarely include them here.
Before I go, I wanted to mention something that’s been troubling me lately. In the last week, I’ve spent an incredible amount of money at Wal-Mart. I have a fundamental problem with the people who own this popular chain, the Waltons, but I still shop there because it’s convenient and cheap. Well … it’s relatively cheap, which is what has been bothering me. I was there yesterday and I picked up a few things—not even everything I came for, since I was short on time and my son was behaving like a goddamned dervish—but the total was still close to 200 dollars. And I have to go back today. 200 bucks doesn’t buy a hell of a lot anymore, and that got me thinking. I’ve been working in the same industry for 14 years … so I adjusted for inflation and cost-of-living increases … and it turns out that I’m making far less money than when I started.
I mentioned this to my friend and he said, “It’s like that for everybody.”
Well … of course it is. And that’s a problem—probably one of the reasons for this crippling depression and overall sense of doom that’s been hanging over me like a cloud. That and the fact that I’m waiting for the state to come through with my health insurance so I can start taking those little pills again—the ones that the doctor said were “extremely important.” Ever since my wife was eaten by a lion, I get the feeling that they are important. But this is America and every year we work, we make a little less money, so we either work harder or we starve. And since our health and happiness is a business, and universal healthcare is part of a socialist agenda, I guess I should just vote for Mitt Romney so he can make me rich like him.
Maybe I’ll try something from Sam’s blog: I’m feeling better every day. I’m feeling better every day.
Well … fuck it. Welcome to the weekend.
Here’s your wisdom:
John T. Schmitz is the editor & publisher of Secret Laboratory; he is the founder of Maple Hills Press and has also freelanced as a writer and photographer, contributing to various local and international publications. Mr. Schmitz lives in Minnesota with his wife, Megan, and their two children; he is the author of five books.
Email Mr. Schmitz at firstname.lastname@example.org.