I've been away so long (committing regular infidelities with my Facebook page), even the following paragraph, which has been waiting on ice, is now out of date:
Having been virtually underground for a couple of months, your Intrepid Reporter is back in Newfoundland to finish out what was supposed to have been an entire summer ensconced among the rural wonders of the Rock. Not to be. Have just come off three weeks in So-Cal (that's southern California to all who don't live in southern California), first in charge of, and then just visiting, the wee grandchildren who lost their maternal Grandpa and said goodbye to their deploying Daddy within a very short time. (Made longer, however, by the fact that the military had trouble exchanging the proper papers to get Daddy to Afghanistan, taking another two weeks after granting him a week's bereavement leave.)Well, the week in Newfoundland turned out rushed and insufficient to wind down the summer. So we're back in the stinky heat and haze of Toronto, looking ahead to another busy year, with many serious concerns, not least of which is the coming election. That's the sort of thing I would usually be covering here in detail, but somehow it's been too exhausting a prospect -- and spitting out mini-thoughts on Facebook has been the easier, lazier way out.
Had the also unscheduled thrill of laying eyes on all four grandkiddies within a 24-hour period, since the nearer ones were making a stopover at our place when we got home. They all grow and thrive, and increase in their Unsurpassable Cuteness, each in his or her own inimitable way. Life is good.
I tried to feel hopeful as the candidate became inevitable, one whom I did not much support but who ended up being "the guy" in default, since better men or women chose not to enter an increasingly unseemly fray. I've met Mitt, shaken his hand, and been left unwarmed. I have no doubt of his competence as a manager and executive. But he doesn't move me.
My man Rubio would have been a great VP, but the choice of Ryan has worked out well, and let us hope he has saved the American bacon. The ultra-choreographed kabuki of the conventions is coming to an end. The Tango in Tampa was pretty upbeat and impressive, and made me feel confident about the deep conservative bench. The Charade in Charlotte has been less edifying on every scale -- chock full of deception and mean-spiritedness -- and despite any grandstanding to the contrary, the backstage movers of the party know that they are in deep doo-doo.
At this moment, Joe Biden is unrolling a colossal tissue of whoppers in his ordinary way from within the deep reaches of his alternate universe. Can't wait to see the roll-out of facts checked tomorrow. The only comfort is that fewer and fewer people actually watch this kabuki. Some new program about child beauty pageants called Honey Boo-Boo rivalled the convention in viewership.
Biden is about to tell us how brilliant Obama has been as Commander-in-Chief. The Bin Laden story is being lavishly embroidered in senile rapture -- "LITERALLY!!!!!"
On that subject, let me just reference this brief report from Sunni tribal leader Ahmad Abu-Risha, one of the courageous Iraqis who turned the tide in his own country as part of the Anbar awakening. The headline says it all:
Iraqi leader to Obama:
'Why did you leave Iraq to Iran?'
Biden just stated "the only truly sacred obligation we have" [then what the hell are all the entitlements, stimuli, and programs for?????????] is to prepare those we send to war, and care for them when they come back. Not a bad idea. Democrats should try trimming their agenda in just such a fashion some time.
