Completely Unnoficial 2015 GOP Presidential Debate drinking game

What’s the frequency, really….? (Part 1)

;

Here (Rascal Flatts song) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Your correspondent spent the day writing non stop. Typically this would make him feel he’d been productive. He’d feel the adrenaline rush of creative work. Instead he’s feeling tired and a bit dissatisfied; annoyed with himself if truth be told. Like the now legendary mythical character inspired by the mugging of newsman Dan Ratherwho’s story in turn inspired one of REM’s most popular tunesthis writer finds himself confused and asking questions.

Why did he spend all day writing about the Republican Convention and obsessing over politics? What premises lead to his obsession over all things political? Does he really care enough about the politics of – not the principles, but the politics of the campaigns and the elections? Do the political games – and his obsession with them – benefit him?

For as long as he can remember Hunter has always found himself asking questions – about himself, his motives for his behaviors, what he believes, about others and their reasons for doing as they do, about the principles people are moved by and about the things that move the world. Today was the rare exception to a standing truism.

Today Hunter did not care for the answers he had found. Hunter refuses to ignore his most crucial principle – to act on and towards things that will benefit him (and clearly his dissatisfaction does not). Today Hunter resolved to focus on things that matter to him. Today introspection leads him to the inescapable conclusion that politics as such do not matter to him.

Hunter finds himself relieved that he’s become so consciously aware of this fact. The news had sat in the back of his mind for so long. It needled and beckoned for him to notice like insistent chords from some Thrash Metal ballad; awareness of his distaste for the political process screamed as it sang to him. Today, he finally knew what he had been hearing for so long.

This writer is reminded of the friends and family he so nonchalantly offended, insulted, turned off, and, eventually, (and always) alienated himself from. His obsession with political – not moral but political – principles was and still remains a source of much of his trouble with others. No mas.

Hunter finds himself acutely aware that his moral code requires that he prize his family and friend’s love and respect over petty differences in how best to act on principle. He violated that code again and again when minor (and, occasionally, major) actions of others needled his political obsession. No mas.

Today is a good day to change. Isn’t today always the best day to correct one’s mistakes? Isn’t today always the day to chase happiness rather than let dissatisfaction, anger, or fear be things to run from?

No mas will Hunter ask his version of ‘what’s the frequency’ nor be as confused as the character suggested by that myth.

Hunter remembers a Rascal Flatts concert a year or two back. He remembers fleeting, joyful moments when politics were not his motivator and joy was his only aim. He remembers better days when he came so close to genuine human connections he could reach out and share a drink and a smoke with them.

Hunter remembers smiling, drinking his beer; the boys singing “I’ve found you find strength in your moments of weakness; for once I’m at peace with myself. I’ve been burdened with blame, trapped in the past for too long. I’m movin’ on.”

Smiling over his beer, Hunter thought he was moving on. He merely moved himself and moved others into a corner and into an inevitable rage. He’d no notion of that which lay ahead. Unbeknownst to himself he was still obsessed with a past in which politics did in fact matter. No mas.

Hunter is on the hunt for joy and better days. Politics can’t help him there.

Hunter is moving on. He finally knows the frequency. No longer confused, the frequency makes him smile. Friends wait for him while he composes a new song for himself. They wait, drink and joint in hand.

All the best deceptions – the republican national convention

Democratic Ticket: Seymour & Blair (Photo credit: Cornell University Library)

And so a political Party, terrified and angry over a failed administration, slings political red meat and celebrates its heroes; balloons fall and music blasts the celebrants. The newly energized party offers to a tired, worried, and tense nation the arguments for change and hope after years of economic difficulty. A young vital, slightly mysterious newcomer seeks high office and the opposition calls him out on his supposed extremism, questioning his past and his motives. 2008, Democrats, and Barak Obama? Not even close.

This week politicos, pundits, and wannabees drool over the Republican Party National Convention and the choice by its Presidential candidate of Paul Ryan as his running mate. Perhaps, as some argue, there indeed has never been a more sharply drawn line ‘tween the parties. Perhaps, as some argue, never have the differences been so clear or the choices so fundamentally pure. Perhaps this convention is a snooze fest, clear-cut in its predictability post the Ryan pick.

Perhaps not, at least not in how the Democratic party will respond. Let’s do a bit of prognostication, shall we?