Let's Wax Political

I took the time to listen to Obama's acceptance speech in the wee small hours of Friday morning. I must admit that I was rather moved by the words the first time I heard them. If it wasn't clear previously that this man was a wordsmith, his DNC speech should be the only indicator you need. Listening to words, it would almost make you excited to be an American. Almost.
Later on, once reality had set it, I remembered that despite his ability to inspire people with words, Barack Obama is still a politician. He makes politician promises, he flip-flops, and has proven to be less than the savior the media make him out to be. He is not the human incarnation of "hope." He is, however, not another incarnation of Bush. Despite his recent actions and words to the contrary, I don't believe John McCain is another Bush either--he's just pandering to the Republican faithful.
Speaking of pandering--McCain's choice for VP. An obvious ploy--but strangely I think many of the Hillary faithful will go for it. Many have said they'd vote McCain or not at all. How opportunistic! His choice just bothers me. It's like the kid who starts selling Lemonade on the street. It doesn't take long before the kid across the street does the same thing, trying to capitalize on the ideas of someone else. I bet if Obama was feeling suicidal and chose Hillary, Palin wouldn't have even been graced with a second thought. Then again, I just may be cynical.

Despite my contentions of the race for the White House, I kind of wish the Canadian fall election (you know it's coming) would be this interesting.

Sweet merciful crap.

Apparently blogging for academic purposes lays too much of a responsibility on me to say smart things. Will I ever learn? I'm much too lazy to commit to such an ongoing venture.

I miss blogging for the sake of blogging. I also miss the blogs of friends. I think I began the domino effect when I stopped blogging in July of '07. Next to fall was Ross' blog, which was followed by Grindy's and Daejin's as well (not in that particular order).

Something that helps you re-examine things is knowing a lot of people much younger than you. By much younger at this stage of my life, I'll accept anybody 25 and younger. Ah, yes. 25. That point in your life when you start questioning whether you've made the right choices for yourself. The last hurrah of youth. A time when there's still a glimmer of hope that you might accomplish something really cool.
To the point. I had commented on how my drinking box of creative juice had been emptied and squeezed with not a drop to be had in either it's confines, or it's straw. I think I (greatly) paraphrased that last sentence. The comment I heard in return was something simple, along the lines of just "keep on writing." Well, duh. I already knew that. That had to have been around a month ago, showing me once again that I don't know diddly.

I'm not trying to be twenty-five again. Despite my best efforts, I'm continually learning the impossibilities of recapturing anything that had to do with that time. Instead, I'm taking the ball and bringing it to a new field where no rules have been established. Let's see where this all takes me this time.