Vote for John Kerry
Just a thought from 1 November 2004 about .

I remember when I first became aware of John Kerry. It was during the Democratic primaries when the field was crowded with hopeful candidates. I was watching the debates on CNN and I pointed at him, tapping my finger on the hollow cathode ray tube of my television set as he was droning on in his eternal monotone, my finger touching his broadcasted wrinkles.

"Anyone," I said, "but that one."

The democrats were damaged by Clinton. He'd embarrassed us in the eyes of the world with a blue dress and a curvy intern. And Gore was just laughable, even before he lost the Electoral College in 2000. So I thought we needed someone to reinvigorate us. Someone young and energetic. Not this walking corpse, this reanimated High School Principal, this Frankenstein without the bolts.

What did I know.

I'm a decline-to-stater. I voted for Clinton twice, but only really meant the first one. I skew to the left, but in the context of my fellow San Franciscans, I'm positively centrist. I have more in common with the leave-me-alone libertarians than the don't-say-words-that-bother-me liberals.

Plus I'm over 30 now, so I'm officially too old to vote for Nader. Again.

I'm the great American middle. I get my news from television when I'm barely awake. Half-biased news, half paid attention to. I treat politics like dog shit on the sidewalk - I avoid it as much as possible, but every once in a while I forget and get some on my shoe. Then I hope the stink doesn't linger too long.

But not this year. Because this year, even someone half paying attention has to see that George W. Bush is destroying America. A pointless war, a tanking economy, and a job market as bad as any I've ever seen. Clinton may have embarrassed us with a stain on a dress, but Bush has embarrassed with a stain on the world.

The blood of thousands of people in Iraq is on his hands. He lied to get us into a pointless war. His idea of financial policy is to bribe the rich guys with tax rebates in exchange for votes. He believes in Evangelical Christianity, which means it doesn't matter how much he fucks up the world - he's not sticking around come Judgement Day anyway.

The economy tanked. The unemployment rate spiked. The images of Abu Gharib. His never-ending, non-specific, selective war against "terrorists" - the bogeyman that excuses every abuse of the constitution he can think of.

And to top it all off, the man cannot speak the English language. He thinks that a smug half-smile and a blatant lie can get him out of any jam, because, let's face it, so far it has.

It will take years to undo the damage George W. Bush has wrought. But I can think of one good first step.

Let's vote the fucker out. Even if, like me, you're not sure about this Kerry guy, let's give him a chance to fix things. In four years, Bush has done so much damage. Just imagine the damage he could do with another four.

Please vote. Please vote for John Kerry.

See Also:

» Don't believe me? Try this incredibly well-reasoned, no-bullshit letter from Michael Moore.

» Want eye candy? Watch the films at Never Forget.

» If you couldn't tell, I support Kerry and I oppose Bush. See what other bloggers say at Technorati.

This section is called Just a Thought. It's a blog where I post little pieces of what I'm thinking about at the moment. This page is an individual entry called “Vote for John Kerry” that I wrote on 1 November 2004.

Before this, I wrote a little something called “Lotsa Leias” on 27 October 2004. After this, I wrote “Pretty Kitty” on 3 November 2004.

Lotsa Leias
WHO: You, dressed as Princess Leia. WHAT: Halloween in the Castro, San Francisco. WHERE: Meet at the corner of Church...
27 October 2004

Pretty Kitty
Here is a photo of a pretty kitty. This kitty has nothing to do with politics or how fucking idiotic...
3 November 2004

The Fine Print

Working the web since 1995, Derek Powazek is the creator of many award-winning websites, a couple of which still exist. Derek is the cofounder of JPG Magazine and the CCO of 8020 Publishing. Derek lives in San Francisco with his wife, two nutty Chihuahuas, a grumpy cat, and a house full of plants named Fred. More »

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