Democratic National Convention
A few notes on the Democratic National Convention, a political event I would be even less likely to watch than a Republican National Convention. At least this year’s RNC (of which I watched a total of about one minute) involved some intrigue concerning how the party was going to frame itself so as to hold the wide range of voters it needs in order to have a chance in November — old-fashioned conservatives, and free market libertarians, and idol-worshipping populist dreamers — and of course how it was going to take the fullest advantage of the assassination attempt on Donald Trump just days before the convention began, to drum up enthusiasm for a candidate everyone knows regards the country’s founding documents and principles with disdain. The DNC, by contrast, is inevitably, as usual (only more so), a monotone mosaic of obviousness: people who would not mind being branded communists, people who would not mind being branded socialists, and people who, being cagey and old-fashioned, reject those more dangerously anti-American labels in favor of the banal and safe-seeming “progressive” — which, in the American context, has always been the euphemism of choice for socialists and communists.
And so, after dismissing the actual President of the United States — Joe Biden, for anyone who has forgotten (as he intermittently does) — on the first evening of the miniseries, since he now is seen as nothing but a liability (one wonders how that perception will hold up in November, when people have had a few months of Kamala Harris’ inane grin and vapid blather to contemplate with increasing dread), the Democratic tribunal, having effectively cancelled its own outgoing leader (as politburos always do), began its forward-looking clean-up work with 2018’s hot item, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, who is increasingly looking like Greta Thunberg with couture outfits and red lipstick. But the party handlers somehow got her to smile a lot as though she were enjoying herself, at least according to the Google image search I just ran on her DNC appearance — there was no way I was going to submit myself to ten seconds of her voice, for God’s sake!
Next up, naturally, it was the Obamas, arriving to announce that it is high time for a woman of color, to prove that America is not all as racist as the Republican Party, which still has the gall to include white men in its upper ranks, as though this were still 2004 or something. Whites are slaveowners, don’t you know, whereas Kamala’s heritage traces back to the African nation of India…or rather Jamaica, where of course slavery…oh, well you get the point, she’s not a white man! Interestingly, according to the headlines and images I have seen, Michelle Obama actually deigned to appear on stage at the DNC with her husband, at least briefly, which only goes to show that she must have a new book and accompanying documentary coming out soon. I hope she or her agent has the brains to wait until the second week of November for the release date, so that, as opportunity avails, she may have the chance to retitle the upcoming work, “I Would Have Won.”
Anyway, that’s all I can report for now, except that if the Democrats win in November, America is done for. (That’s a rhetorical ruse, of course. America is done for no matter what happens, unless Superman arrives to spin the whole world backwards by at least forty years.)
Meanwhile, I hear Trump is pledging to eliminate the income tax. Fantastic! Much as he promised to build a wall that Mexico would pay for. Trump would promise to bring George Washington and Aristotle to your house for Labor Day Weekend if he thought it would impress the talk radio hosts.
