It isn’t difficult for an individual with moderate faculties to describe the weather. A myriad of adjectives lay at our disposal to describe our stratospheric happenings. Almost with vivid clarity, we can close our eyes and imagine the colorless or articulate paint recreating the world inside. So why is it so difficult to describe the political climate? It’s not much different.
Depending on where you live, the weather of former presidents is quite describable. Those having lived through the Clinton era on the West Coast might describe the political weather as having been sunny, for the most part, interrupted only by light showers. The Midwest most likely thought of it as a constant downpour, regardless of robust economic growth, record low unemployment rates, and unprecedented peace meetings. Undoubtedly, according to polls, President Bush is a volatile, albeit imbecilic storm. Hurricane Katrina was more than just the severe mishandlings of the Bush Administration, but also an outrageously felt metaphor for said administration: disastrous, incomprehensible, and leaving damage that will take years to repair.
The American people are juxtaposed faced with a choice between Senator Obama, an inspirational orator with words like a morning fog, and Senator McCain, a stifling and humid windstorm. A morning fog is pleasant in its calm stillness, but unsettles the nerves with opacity. With fog, one can never be sure if what will follow will be a glorious sunny day or bleak darkness. Dangers in harbored by fog are constant in their mysteriousness. A humid windstorm is predictably unbearable and misleading in its direction. It is triggered by perpetual fronts of hot air, hot air that promulgates lies so outrageous and “enhanced truths” so unfathomable, people sweat the possibility of its continuation for a potential eight years.
Senator Obama once inspired me. He opined from the heart and unwaveringly delivered to the people unabashed foresight and a reassurance that politicians still listen. However, he later proved that he was, in fact, a politician: He changed his policy on offshore drilling and has yet to deliver a rebuttal to outlandish McCain ads with the same former fervor. Some say that he is merely playing the game, but who says he has to? He can be the first in decades to define it! If he wants to be the harbinger of change, then he must live it without doubt and refuse to kowtow to those who fear it.
John McCain once inspired me as well. I was awestruck by the combination of his status as a former P.O.W. and his candidly pleasant demeanor. I enjoyed how he verbally stood against the G.O.P. on several issues, including stem cell research, torture, and offshore drilling. Most of that has changed, camouflaging him deeper into the party; he no longer is demanding the cessation of Guantanamo Bay and extraordinary renditions, and he hails offshore drilling as every families’ economic salvation. And why wouldn’t he? He could accurately describe to you the color of the pocket lint of monstrous oil conglomerates. It only takes a brisk walk through the streets of Puerto Vallarta to push you into an air conditioned building with a soft seat and a cold drink, and I find listening to Senator McCain and Governor Palin the same: exhausting.
The question remains: What will the weather be like? That depends. Which do you prefer? Personally, I want another choice. I want the two-party system to offer more than just rain or sun, humidity or dryness, heat or chill. I want snow, where each flake is unique and I can choose between more than just two disagreeable iconic figures. Until then, I am forced to endure uncertainty and lethargy. In doing so, I must chose uncertainty, for I’d rather not know my suffering than willingly subject myself to it.
