The Final Round is Over

Me and Eduardo finally got a chance to sit down at his crib to discuss my take on the last few weeks blazing display of corruption, artifice and decay put on by both major political parties. I was nursing ‘swimmers ear’ brought on by the terrible atmospheric pressure from the Rockies and insisted Ed sit on my good ear side so I didn’t have to have him scream at me-which he does half the time anyway. He said he had something to cure a popped ear but I wasn’t trusting that fucker ‘s black magic potions, not since the last time he got me to swallow something with scorpion juice in it. I opted out for the pleasant wad of hash he had to ease the nuisance of my ear being clogged-and this wasn’t resin you scrape out of your pipe and call it ‘hash’, this was some good old school blondish red colored stuff that took effect immediately. We took a few minutes, maybe twenty, to fight off the drug’s paralyzing effect, then smiled at one another as if to say okay, I can hold a conversation now without drifting into some nether region of my mind where the mere concept of say, fingernails, baffles me.

I never like to analyze conventions until they are complete and over because so much small, entertaining tidbits of flotsam make their way onto the televised version. You need to weigh those in with the even more obscure stories that come across the wire or on the ‘net’. Bottom line, I told Eduardo, is that the conventions were exactly what they have always been to me, since I started paying attention to them back during the Carter/Ford days; pep rallies. There are no great epiphanies to guide the masses of voters to tranquility, no new information being trotted out to the public. It’s a rehash of the same shit that’s been filtered down to us via the airwaves since the candidate’s PR hacks got hold of it to fine tune it. Small, safe messages to put out before the people that usually entail more bashing of the opposition that constructive creation. The Republicans had Clint Eastwood come out there and get the crowds giddy, the Dems put San Antonio Mayor Julian Castro out there to tell us how hard he had it (as a Democrat) growing up. It’s a whore’s display of self serving gestures cognizant only of which group they are speaking to. Either party could care less about members of the opposition, they will only give the money shot to their candidate’s supporters. It’s like the crowd might as well be standing there shouting “tell us Obama’s a pussy!”, then some pol gets up and shouts “Obama’s a pussy!” to get the crowd worked into a voting frenzy, willing and ready to pull the lever for the candidate of their tribe. Of course actually shouting so-and-so’s a pussy could only be coming from the Republican’s side. They are natural bullies. Democrats are too sensitive to shout something like that on the convention floor….there might be some pussies in the audience that felt offended.

“So who you voting for?” I could tell Ed wanted to catch me in some political conundrum by favoring one man or the other, but all I could tell him was I refused to vote for either.
“so you’re just throwing your vote away?”
“For the presidency, yes. I refuse to choose between an asswipe and a dickhead.”
“Well people will tell you that it’s a privilege to vote and you shouldn’t-”
“-I am not throwing away my vote. I will vote for local politicians, I will vote to pass a legalization of marijuana law, but I will not vote to choose one of those two inept retards for President. Whoever wins, it doesn’t matter to me, because either one of them will be an ineffective political spokesperson that has less of an effect on this country than a dozen private citizens, which now include, ‘corporations’. About the most a president is able to do anymore is send men and women to die in some foreign country for some hapless conflict. The European market crashes and our stocks reflect it in a flash. Huge companies have their toe in the door of legislation and I see it becoming more and more a tool they will use-and abuse-to guide our lives. All a president will do is announce new jobs numbers and what the fuck does that do? I will not vote and say the Emperor’s clothes are beautiful. The Emperor is naked and we’re all being screwed by a silent partner.”

Ed lit up the pipe and gave me this look like he was saying touche’. Ed won’t vote, he’s not a citizen here, but he does enjoy our politics. So the final round has ended, the fight cards are being gathered for scoring and we, the public, wait to see who comes out on top. I am a betting man and I say Mitt the Fish Romney will win…let’s see if my predictions hold true. If I’m wrong what have I lost but a personal bet with this Chicano monster sitting next to me drawing in a lungful of hash smoke? Less than 3 months away folks, then somebody’s going to be crying.


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