Guess who's coming to dinner?
Question for discussion.
I am a liberal Democrat (see icon). This should not be news to anybody who reads this blog. As such, I have quite the deep and abiding hatred for George W. Bush, who unfortunately is the President. For another fifteen months and nineteen days.
Now. Suppose that I were to do something amazing, like win a Nobel Prize or whatever, and get invited to dinner at the White House. Should I go?
It seems to me that there are several options here.
Option 2 has definite appeal, because many of us have probably fantasized about doing exactly this. Except maybe without the "polite and civil" part.
Option 3 is probably what Miss Manners would tell me to do. It also has the advantage of being the least likely to get my ass thrown in Gitmo for pitching a fit in the White House dining room.
I think that I'd choose option 3. Not because of Miss Manners, but because in this situation, this dinner invitation is not about HIM, but about ME. In a way, the politics, his and mine, are not really part of the equation. He's not inviting me to dinner as George W. Bush, hateful warmonger and destroyer of the Constitution, but as head of state of the country of which I am a proud citizen, and I've done something noteworthy that deserves recognition BY the head of state. So why should I deprive myself of that recognition because the head of state in question is so undeserving of the title?
But then I think that if I were to attend such a dinner, it's inevitable that at some point some photographer would want to take a picture of me with the President, probably because they'd assume that I'd want such a memento, or maybe they keep photo records like this for themselves. And NO WAY would I want a picture of me shaking Dubya's hand, EVER. Then I think, if I'm unwilling to have the event documented, maybe I shouldn't even attend.
This is all a gedanken experiment, of course, because while I don't totally discount the possibility of getting invited to the White House for dinner (you never know) it's certainly not going to happen in the next fifteen months and nineteen days. Still. These are things I think about when I'm waiting to fall asleep.
Thoughts?
I am a liberal Democrat (see icon). This should not be news to anybody who reads this blog. As such, I have quite the deep and abiding hatred for George W. Bush, who unfortunately is the President. For another fifteen months and nineteen days.
Now. Suppose that I were to do something amazing, like win a Nobel Prize or whatever, and get invited to dinner at the White House. Should I go?
It seems to me that there are several options here.
- Politely decline the invitation.
- Accept the invitation, attend the dinner, and politely and civilly tell old Dubya exactly what I think of him.
- Accept the invitation, attend the dinner, swallow my personal feelings and make polite conversation, then leave. Hopefully having stolen some flatware as a souvenir.
Option 2 has definite appeal, because many of us have probably fantasized about doing exactly this. Except maybe without the "polite and civil" part.
Option 3 is probably what Miss Manners would tell me to do. It also has the advantage of being the least likely to get my ass thrown in Gitmo for pitching a fit in the White House dining room.
I think that I'd choose option 3. Not because of Miss Manners, but because in this situation, this dinner invitation is not about HIM, but about ME. In a way, the politics, his and mine, are not really part of the equation. He's not inviting me to dinner as George W. Bush, hateful warmonger and destroyer of the Constitution, but as head of state of the country of which I am a proud citizen, and I've done something noteworthy that deserves recognition BY the head of state. So why should I deprive myself of that recognition because the head of state in question is so undeserving of the title?
But then I think that if I were to attend such a dinner, it's inevitable that at some point some photographer would want to take a picture of me with the President, probably because they'd assume that I'd want such a memento, or maybe they keep photo records like this for themselves. And NO WAY would I want a picture of me shaking Dubya's hand, EVER. Then I think, if I'm unwilling to have the event documented, maybe I shouldn't even attend.
This is all a gedanken experiment, of course, because while I don't totally discount the possibility of getting invited to the White House for dinner (you never know) it's certainly not going to happen in the next fifteen months and nineteen days. Still. These are things I think about when I'm waiting to fall asleep.
Thoughts?