You politics, you suck ass.
...and I've only just begun to scratch the surface.
Tonight, the Republican Convention had Sarah Palin giving her manufactured speech - like I suppose all political figure-heads' are handed, and my father watched the rally in entirety - and with rap attention.
I am a fickle teen who changes her mind every 60 seconds and probably shouldn't even be thinking about this sort of stuff; I like to think of myself as one who holds no ties to any political party in particular (and, try saying that five times fast), as sometimes the conservative party has ideals that I agree with (no taxing independently owned businesses, the people own the government, Glenn Beck...) and the liberal party has ideals that I agree with (pro-choice, Rachel Maddow... ). Which, if I wanted to be anal about it I'd use the term bipartisan. And, during this time in my life I like leaning toward left-wing politics; they seem more hospitable than Rudy Guliani. Can you tell I really don't enjoy listening to his mean-spirited speeches?
I also really really dislike the McCain/Palin maverick duo. Especially the fact that so many people believe that just because she's a woman, all the undecided and bitter Hilary supporters will immediately flock over and vote for McCain's fogey ass. Huh!? Most of those Pumas - I believe they're referred to as on Race to the White House - are probably pro-choice, and not pro-life (i.e. Baby Killing or Having it). But, correct me if I'm wrong, please.
Well, fuck. I did butcher Shakespeare.
Alright, let's say that if - oh dear, that dreaded if - you became pregnant by rape, either by an anonymous penis, your hormonal-driven boyfriend, or an incestuous family member, what would you want to do with the unborn child? Would you decide to go to term and then give the child away for adoption? Or, would you kill it because you couldn't stand having a little reminder of that memory running around in your backyard?
I know I would chose option b - and no, I have never been raped nor pregger's - because well, even if your mother's love followed through and kept and took care of the child, could you really not feel some resentment that you kept this little souvenir? Especially if he/she in someway resembled your assailant, could you bear to look at he/she/it? Me, not so much.
However, I also realize if you go through with an abortion, you have to deal with the residual aftermath. Was the choice you made the right one? Maybe, maybe not. But, so many young girls/women have to handle years of pain because of one choice.
In another case, perhap's you've mistakenly gotten pregnant by your boyfriend/husband's uncloaked member and you really really don't want children or you're a teen and don't have the means to take care of this child, so you abort it.
In the seventies - or was it eighties - behind her future first husbands back, my mother aborted a child because she really really didn't want children. And, thirty years later she still doesn't really care, as when she first mentioned it, she was frank and indifferent; that made me wonder if she still thought about what kind of life she would have had if she made the opposite choice. But, I could be over-thinking this, and she made the choice based thoroughly on her lifestyle.
And, perhaps you're wondering how I came into this world? My father "persuaded" her. She's still not quite sure she made the right decision in going along and subsequently having me. I can't blame her. I'm a money-sucker.
I wonder if mother remembered to stick her ear plugs in? I just checked; she forgot.
So, I clambered back downstairs to do god know's what; hearing the closing cheer's and chanting and overall unnecessary loudness of the end of the Convention, I realized that my father was really lording his week of conservative-love over my mother. Dang, when it actually happened I was pretty pissed, ready to yell at him for disrespecting mother's beliefs. I don't think that would have blown over well.
When I first noticed the high volume and my father's chuckling along with whatever Rudy Giuliani was speaking about, I made a light-hearted comment about him perfecting his cackle for dictatorship and he responded with some rude words. Was that the wrong thing to say?
Why, oh why? I didn't think too much of it, happy that he was enjoying his convention, even if I didn't agree with what was being said. Once he turned the volume up to high for my head to cope with, I - in a probably acerbic tone - asked/told him to turn it down a little and he stomped over, slammed his hand on the counter and told me to unceremoniously to shut up. I went back upstairs after sharing a dark look with mother and unsuccessfully trying to assuage my her fuming, only to five minutes or so later, hear them shooting political hatred banter at each other. Wasn't very orginal stuff, but whatever.
With all that, I guessed that mom had finally reached her boiling point and snapped, and I planted myself in the hall to listen-in better. One statement that stuck in my mind was the, "Vote for Obama and your ass is out," argument ending papa used in place of a friendly See-Ya later. Nice dad, real nice. In the end, I understand that by tomorrow dad will have apologized and mum will only hold a grudge for a few hour's after that, but it still hurts. I know that he probably didn't mean it, and was just caught up in the argument, but even so, he still should have acknowledged how we would have taken his words.
I tried my brand of consoling words with my crying mother, although my lack of understanding what to say to a hysterically angry woman or any kind of woman for that matter, kinda threw me of kilter. And, also because I was still shaken by how my father had talked to me after he'd come upstairs - basically another rendition of the 'liberal's are scum!' - I was trying to control my own disappointment and glum. Which really made me unable to talk correctly.
I still bawled after all that, though.
I'm also guessing that he was drunkish when all this occurred. Usually he's a very attentive daddy who keep's political affair's away from the dinner table and yes, I tried using that as an some sort of idiom.
I'm surprised at how calmly the second half of this entry was written, usually it'd be laced with more profanity. Plus, I'm on le blood flow and cramping.
Tonight, the Republican Convention had Sarah Palin giving her manufactured speech - like I suppose all political figure-heads' are handed, and my father watched the rally in entirety - and with rap attention.
I am a fickle teen who changes her mind every 60 seconds and probably shouldn't even be thinking about this sort of stuff; I like to think of myself as one who holds no ties to any political party in particular (and, try saying that five times fast), as sometimes the conservative party has ideals that I agree with (no taxing independently owned businesses, the people own the government, Glenn Beck...) and the liberal party has ideals that I agree with (pro-choice, Rachel Maddow... ). Which, if I wanted to be anal about it I'd use the term bipartisan. And, during this time in my life I like leaning toward left-wing politics; they seem more hospitable than Rudy Guliani. Can you tell I really don't enjoy listening to his mean-spirited speeches?
I also really really dislike the McCain/Palin maverick duo. Especially the fact that so many people believe that just because she's a woman, all the undecided and bitter Hilary supporters will immediately flock over and vote for McCain's fogey ass. Huh!? Most of those Pumas - I believe they're referred to as on Race to the White House - are probably pro-choice, and not pro-life (i.e. Baby Killing or Having it). But, correct me if I'm wrong, please.
Well, fuck. I did butcher Shakespeare.
Alright, let's say that if - oh dear, that dreaded if - you became pregnant by rape, either by an anonymous penis, your hormonal-driven boyfriend, or an incestuous family member, what would you want to do with the unborn child? Would you decide to go to term and then give the child away for adoption? Or, would you kill it because you couldn't stand having a little reminder of that memory running around in your backyard?
I know I would chose option b - and no, I have never been raped nor pregger's - because well, even if your mother's love followed through and kept and took care of the child, could you really not feel some resentment that you kept this little souvenir? Especially if he/she in someway resembled your assailant, could you bear to look at he/she/it? Me, not so much.
However, I also realize if you go through with an abortion, you have to deal with the residual aftermath. Was the choice you made the right one? Maybe, maybe not. But, so many young girls/women have to handle years of pain because of one choice.
In another case, perhap's you've mistakenly gotten pregnant by your boyfriend/husband's uncloaked member and you really really don't want children or you're a teen and don't have the means to take care of this child, so you abort it.
In the seventies - or was it eighties - behind her future first husbands back, my mother aborted a child because she really really didn't want children. And, thirty years later she still doesn't really care, as when she first mentioned it, she was frank and indifferent; that made me wonder if she still thought about what kind of life she would have had if she made the opposite choice. But, I could be over-thinking this, and she made the choice based thoroughly on her lifestyle.
And, perhaps you're wondering how I came into this world? My father "persuaded" her. She's still not quite sure she made the right decision in going along and subsequently having me. I can't blame her. I'm a money-sucker.
I wonder if mother remembered to stick her ear plugs in? I just checked; she forgot.
So, I clambered back downstairs to do god know's what; hearing the closing cheer's and chanting and overall unnecessary loudness of the end of the Convention, I realized that my father was really lording his week of conservative-love over my mother. Dang, when it actually happened I was pretty pissed, ready to yell at him for disrespecting mother's beliefs. I don't think that would have blown over well.
When I first noticed the high volume and my father's chuckling along with whatever Rudy Giuliani was speaking about, I made a light-hearted comment about him perfecting his cackle for dictatorship and he responded with some rude words. Was that the wrong thing to say?
Why, oh why? I didn't think too much of it, happy that he was enjoying his convention, even if I didn't agree with what was being said. Once he turned the volume up to high for my head to cope with, I - in a probably acerbic tone - asked/told him to turn it down a little and he stomped over, slammed his hand on the counter and told me to unceremoniously to shut up. I went back upstairs after sharing a dark look with mother and unsuccessfully trying to assuage my her fuming, only to five minutes or so later, hear them shooting political hatred banter at each other. Wasn't very orginal stuff, but whatever.
With all that, I guessed that mom had finally reached her boiling point and snapped, and I planted myself in the hall to listen-in better. One statement that stuck in my mind was the, "Vote for Obama and your ass is out," argument ending papa used in place of a friendly See-Ya later. Nice dad, real nice. In the end, I understand that by tomorrow dad will have apologized and mum will only hold a grudge for a few hour's after that, but it still hurts. I know that he probably didn't mean it, and was just caught up in the argument, but even so, he still should have acknowledged how we would have taken his words.
I tried my brand of consoling words with my crying mother, although my lack of understanding what to say to a hysterically angry woman or any kind of woman for that matter, kinda threw me of kilter. And, also because I was still shaken by how my father had talked to me after he'd come upstairs - basically another rendition of the 'liberal's are scum!' - I was trying to control my own disappointment and glum. Which really made me unable to talk correctly.
I still bawled after all that, though.
I'm also guessing that he was drunkish when all this occurred. Usually he's a very attentive daddy who keep's political affair's away from the dinner table and yes, I tried using that as an some sort of idiom.
I'm surprised at how calmly the second half of this entry was written, usually it'd be laced with more profanity. Plus, I'm on le blood flow and cramping.