The other night I was going out with a friend, but we didn’t really know what we wanted to do, so when I got to her house and she had the RNC on CSPAN, we just sat there and watched Sarah Palin’s speech.  Then we went out for dessert and talked about politics.  Not a lot, though, because we agree too much, and when you agree with somebody, there just isn’t that much to say.  Of course, when you disagree, there is way too much to say, and more than too much of it usually gets said.  Which is why I try never to discuss politics with people I disagree with, especially if I don’t like them personally.  Because if I don’t like them, I don’t care about hurting their feelings.  And that makes me mean.  Mean people suck.

So suffice it to say, if I have discussed politics with you, know that I must really like you, or I wouldn’t have bothered.

On the other hand, if I haven’t discussed politics with you, it’s not (necessarily) because I don’t like you, but because I was feeling lazy.  Discussing politics cordially is such hard work, you know?  And I tire easily.  And for the most part, I really think not bothering is the best strategy.

When I write about politics, I try to stick to topics that aren’t very important.  Perhaps I’m satirizing the superficiality of so much of our political discourse.  Yeah, that sounds good.  I try not to talk about subjects that are very important to me, because then I might say something passionate and overwrought, and my cool exterior would be blown completely.  None of us wants that.  (Does us?)  Also, I tend to get speechless when I’m angry.  By the time I’ve calmed down, though, I have succumbed to apathy.  At least officially.  Deep inside my rage is a festering wound that is patiently waiting to infect the ballot box.  (Did I mention that I also have metaphor issues?  It’s unclear whether the rage drives those or not.)

So if you’ve read my blog for any length of time, you probably know that I’m a Republican, but you probably don’t know that much about my views on specific issues.  Except that I hate taxes.  Taxes suck.  Just kidding.  Don’t tell me how necessary taxes are because I already know, all right?  I like the police just fine, just get off my back, okay?  Where was I?  Oh, yeah.  I feel fairly confident that not a single one of you could accurately describe my position on abortion, and I’m including my husband in this hypothetical.  I’m also fairly confident that you couldn’t accurately describe my position on same-sex marriage or…gosh, what other issues are there?  Ha ha, I’m just teasing.  You probably don’t know my position on immigration, either.  (Well, my husband might.  But that’s it.)

I think the only issue where you could guess how I really feel about it is universal health care.  But that’s only because I’ve made no secret of how much I detest the sick.  Stupid sick people, sucking up my tax dollars.  Bah!

You know, I was always this way.  It’s not a product of me getting old.  When I was a Democrat I used to joke about confiscating private property and making “gay” the official language of the United States.  I don’t even know what that last one was supposed to mean, but it sure brought down the house among my Republican friends.  Probably because Republicans have superior senses of humor, and thus was I destined to become one.

That last paragraph was full of baloney.  Maybe one independent clause was true.  I’ll let you guess which one.

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