It seems no matter what I do, I can’t seem to get away from all the political horse hockey. Sure, I’ve cut the cord on our cable box, listened almost exclusively to sports talk radio, and left spent shotgun shells out on the stoop to keep away political panhandlers (ie, volunteers). I read only things that have been written with crayons and keep my conversations limited to those with whom I share an intellectual capability, my pet dog. Still, I can’t seem to avoid the presidential election jibber jabber.
From my standpoint, the overall impressions of the major candidates haven’t changed all that much. Bernie Sanders, the old man resembling the corpse from the movie Weekend At Bernie’s” (coincidence with the name? Hmm), continues to spout off political rhetoric I neither understand nor wish to understand. Hillary Clinton, who may or may not have committed some sort of treason by using her personal email to conduct top secret United States political ta-do’s, reminds me of a Chihuahua that will nip at anything just to prove its tough.
Then you have the WWE division of the election, the Republicans. First you have Donald Trump, who has a hotter wife than any of the candidates, and isn’t too modest to point it out while he tries to verbally beat up any opposition, spouting off WWE-style soundbites that forces me not to lean my head to the left or right for fear of whatever brains I still possess would spill out of my ears. Then you have Ted Cruz, the sycophant crybaby who appears to have recently been tied to a goalpost and had his privates duct taped to lab rat, is such a whiny irritant that I begin to question my negative outlook on the necessity of bullies just to shut him up.
I suppose I could say the stupid line about moving to Canada, that I’ve heard idiots spew forth since Reagan ran for President, but we all know that isn’t going to happen. I’m too lazy, and don’t feel that strongly about almost anything that would require some sort of effort to relocate. But there is one thing that has been making me more bothered than any of the political crap in which we find ourselves so deeply entrenched. That, my friends, is the growing volume of my apathy. See, the whole benefit of being an apathetic person is not caring. But I’ve discovered that by defending and expanding my level of apathy, it has resulted in my caring about my ability to not care, obviously defeating the whole point of not caring.
Not entirely unlike a nihilist discovering that believing in a philosophy that, by definition, defeats itself by its assertion that since nothing exists the philosophy of nothing existing therefore doesn’t exist, I find myself at a philosophical conundrum.
Oh well, I don’t care…phew, now I feel better!