The wood is lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
Miles to go before I sleep.
Keeping my promises to Matt Munson, Allan Bartlett, and Orange Juice readers in general, I’m off to the registrar of voters in Santa Ana to change my registration to Republican. It’s Monday May 21, the very last moment I can change parties to vote for Dr. Ron Paul in the Presidential primaries.
I know, I know all the reasons my liberal friends tell me not to do this. No, I don’t want Ron Paul to be President, and he’s obviously not going to be. What I do want is to help legitimize Dr. Paul’s anti-war, pro-liberty message, in at least one of the two big Parties. I want the Republican Party to be more like Ron Paul – that’s a partner we Democrats could work with. And I want to give an honest, consistent guy a leg up against a hyper-funded, sadistic, lying weasel named Willard Mitt Romney.
But poking a stick in Romney’s eye is certainly not the main point. No, the time to punk the GOP comes when we vote in the Senatorial race, and we don’t have to change parties to do that:
3:31 pm. I’m filling out the paperwork as if in a daze, nervous worries roiling my mind. What all could go wrong with me, during two weeks of being a Republican?
What if I start to lose my sense of empathy? What if I start viewing everything in the world in terms of its financial cost or benefit? What if I become a selfish lover, concerned only with my own pleasure?
What if I LIKE being a Republican?
No, don’t be silly, I tell myself. It’s only two weeks, until the primary’s over and the votes are counted. And I will remain under medical observation.
3:45 pm. Well, that was pretty quick and easy, and just in time for the bus back home.
I look around at the other riders. I feel superior to all these poor uneducated people, white and dark. And yet … somehow I no longer feel guilty about that.
Or am I just imagining not feeling guilty?
I need a drink.
3:56 pm. We pass a rare undeveloped patch of land, a few acres of open space. It always lifted my spirits to see that in Orange County. But today I find myself picturing a strip mall or condos on it. Who owns this? Isn’t this property a big resource being wasted? They can always plant a nice pretty lawn in front.
I can’t believe I just wrote that.
4:06 pm. Now we’re passing Mile Square Park in Fountain Valley. When I was a kid it really WAS a Mile Square Park. Now half of it is a fenced-off golf course.
Look at those sophisticated men playing golf. I should learn to play golf. I’ve been wasting my life playing piano, I think.
4:17 pm. I get off the bus, and see my homeless friend Tim, whom I usually give a dollar to. Okay, this will be a good test to see if I’ve changed or not.
To my relief, I give Tim a dollar. And on second thought I give him two. But I can’t stop staring at him and thinking. All of this time, I haven’t seen him make any progress. And I ask him, “So Tim, how’s the job search?”
“JOB SEARCH?” He opens his toothless sixty-year-old mouth and cackles with laughter. I turn away in disgust. I should have got a receipt from him. Do people itemize their donations to beggars? They should, I don’t know why not.
4: 27 pm. Home. A friend checks my pulse, blood pressure, vital signs. So far I seem okay physically. Time to fill out my ballot.
4:52 pm. Done voting, ballot in mail. Why must my brother watch MSNBC? Even before today it was starting to seem repetitive and shrill; today it also seems RETARDED.
Big Ed Schultz just tossed out that old “Bush lied us into Iraq” line. Yeah, that used to make sense to me. But today, I’m thinking…
Of COURSE our leaders, the ruling class, know when we need to go to war, and what the real reasons are. But once they DECIDE that, the important thing is that the whole nation is united behind the effort. So NATURALLY they need to make up other reasons for public consumption. Not to do everything possible to consolidate public opinion behind a war would be a betrayal of our troops. That seems obvious to me. DUH!
5:16 pm. I take the dog for a walk, partly so I can think more clearly without all this liberal propaganda blaring. It’s funny, it’s like I’m on acid. So many things that seemed nonsensical before now suddenly seem obvious, and so many things that were complicated before are now amazingly simple.
It’s obvious that it’s the rich who create jobs, and that the lower their taxes are, and the less regulations they’re required to follow, the more jobs they’ll be able to create for the rest of us.
It’s obvious that the way to reduce the deficit and debt is to lower taxes even more (spurring growth) enabling us to simultaneously double our military budget! (Although we will probably have to cut all social services down to zero, to make all of that work.)
And squinting up from under my sweat-dripping brow at the blazing sun, I realize that there is indeed nothing we can do about climate change, which is not only not a problem, but also not our fault. It is all in God’s loving hands.
6:55 pm. I guess I walked the dog much farther than I’d intended to, and people were getting worried about us. I have my vital signs checked again and I’m fine. Of course I’m fine. I’ve never felt more euphoric in my life. I sit down in my office to see what I’ve written on this damn Orange Juice Blog over the years, and whether it still makes any sense to me.
9:37 pm. No, it does not. What an oeuvre of misguided, fuzzy-headed socialism! I have a lot of nonsense to atone for…
Reading my old stuff, I start to feel sympathy, even admiration, for Dave Ellis, Dick Ackerman, Jim Righeimer. Sure, they break rules, sure they stretch the truth. But ALL great men have had to do that now and then, to achieve their objectives. And if some of their gains are ill-gotten, so be it – to the victor go the spoils.
The basic, all-important fact is that these are JOB CREATORS.
Well, yes, of COURSE they create jobs! Think of how much they invest – they’re all millionaires, aren’t they? Again, DUH.
11:05 pm. I just had a brilliant thought – I AM a very good writer. I really should think of following in the footsteps of Matt Cunningham and Jon Fleischman, and employ my talent in the service of those who can pay well for it. My financial situation would certainly improve … and then I can help the people I care about, you know.
I’m going to start out on this new path, first thing tomorrow morning!
2:03 am. I’ve been trying to sleep, and I just can’t. I don’t ever want to sleep again. The whole world is starting to make sense, finally. The rich are rich for a reason; the poor are poor for a reason. Women are subservient to men for a reason, always have been and always will. If one individual can make it up from poverty, if one immigrant can make it in this country, it’s because they are like that rare talented bird-dog that Congressman King just spoke of so eloquently. All is ruled, for the best, by the Divine Unseen Hand of the Market; and if anything goes wrong it’s because of the interference of liberal “do-good” government.
I think the problem Old Vern had was an over-literal understanding of the New Testament that he grew up with, which instilled in him a foolish, counterproductive altruism. That, and the evil influence of that filthy alcoholic egalitarian Thomas Paine. The New Vern will be guided by the most important tenet in the Bible, its central truth:
“God helps those that help themselves.”
Nope, I’m never going back. The world is my oyster…