The press, and few others, are making much of the beauty pageants that are the nomination races for the Democratic and Republican parties in the good old US of A. One wonders how a matter of such import to a nation can mean so little to its citizens and so much to the press, and why the press does not spend a commensurate amount of time commenting on the broad-based antipathy towards the process and the knobs in the sashes vying for the brass ring of leadership.
Parenthetically, if it is an issue of priorities, the press is making more of Dr. Phil's visit to everyone's favourite trainwreck than it (of course, this is a collective it, as opposed to any specific person, because generalizations are, generally speaking, entirely incorrect, but I don't care, this is my blog, and I named it) which clearly illustrates to me, at least, where the public's interest likely lies. End of parenthetically.
One (ok, me) wonders why anyone would want the job. Sure, you get to slaughter citizens and furreners alike (Go W go!), you have vast spending power (financed by the citizens of the future), big companies will gift you with amazing things in return for modest concessions on the environment (financed by the citizens of the future), and, best of all, you get to be the president of a nation that has
already sunk into a recession and which has a debt the size of... something really big!
I know this is no laughing matter to Canadians, after all, we are the remora on the back of the shark, and if that fish dies, we are going down with it (well, maybe we could swim away if we were really a remora... I am not a marine biologist, but I imagine the remora could find another accommodating shark, it's not as if a remora has the longest contiguous undefended border on the planet with its shark... so I guess, in summary, the remora analogy is a bad one, but I don't care, because I can't think of another host-hanger on image which pleases me right now and I will stop thinking about this soon enough after hitting "publish post" in just a few minutes) and that is not a prospect I relish, as a business owner, home owner, parent, whatever (ok, we are like conjoined twins, sharing a network of veins, arteries, nerves, and autonomic functions; and we are the smaller of the two, and if our twin dies or suffers some medical reversal we are also to die or suffer... yes, I prefer the twins image, but it's too late to change things now, I have become attached to the remora and his cute little scales and it would be cruel to kill him, having brought him to life, and named him, and so on) because, frankly, I don't want to live through a depression. That would suck ass. But really, what kind of sociopathic fucker would want to take the helm of a ship which is low on fuel and has water lapping across the deck? Further, who would want to suffer through another failing metaphor? Not me.
P-man out.
