Strange Days

Election days always get me. Part of me loves the drama of it all, especially it there is something of interest at stake, like the personhood (spell check doesn't think it's a word either, assfaces) nonsense in Mississippi. Another part of me finds the whole thing ridiculous, with equal parts humor and agony. Maybe it’s all the leading up to the day and momentum that’s just so damned tiring. I swear people who work on campaigns must be the most sleep-deprived adrenaline junkies ever. I don’t recall whom, but somebody once said D.C. was Hollywood for ugly people. I know the hit was meant at physical imperfections, but perhaps s/he was on to something a bit deeper.

It just seems like anything emotionally charged brings out the worst in many of us. I’m included in the collective us. No free rides here. I say awful things about politicians, business leaders, athletes, well frankly, anyone in the news with whom I don’t agree or find offensive. And I say offensive things about them, albeit for humor or just plain meanness.

Remember the photo of Michele Bachmann eating the corn dog at the fair? Not so much eating it, as fellating it. And it wasn’t just any corn dog, it was a “We grow ‘em big in Iowa” fair dog. Her squinty little demon eyes formed into a mixture half pleasure, half agony as she took on that monster. Never have I been more thankful for camera phones.

All the instant media has gotten us into weird territory, where no one believes anyone without proof. One time I posted a FB status about wearing sweats with a hole in the butt and moonboots while walking the bitches. It happened and I share these things out of need for a laugh and attention, but one of my friends said he needed photos or it didn’t happen. It’s odd to think that memory, as factually flawed as it may be at times, is no longer a contract among friends.

This instant media also means that we live in a world with no missteps and since perfection isn’t selling, I guess we all get called out for the stupid things we do and say, whether it’s on a national stage and your detractors are using it against you, or whether you’re the chick whose topless, drunken antics from the party ended up as social networking gold.

So are we all just a bunch of bullies? Has the attack and react thought process that seems to sate our needs for instant gratification stunted us? So I go for a run or bake something or read and just generally try to stay as far away from the TV and internet as long as possible, until it’s time to post something…