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Monday, August 10, 2015

It is so hard to choose, ok bacon and eggs.

Choices are everywhere. It is a constant companion of life. It starts first thing, get up, hit the snooze button? Coffee, or tea, sausage or bacon, pancakes, or eggs? And it continues, non-stop. Should I do this awful task tomorrow, or the next day? By evening decisions have almost completely sapped the will to live. And then here comes the primary.

It starts slowly, a few candidates driving through Iowa. Stopping, glad handing, talking to local people. 

"It is time we wrestle our country back from the entrenched Washington elitist, power brokers. Bring power back to the people. It is time to restore the greatness of representative government"

Heck yeah, let's do it! Who's going to be the first one up against the wall?

"Hold on, that is not what I meant. Where is the nearest diner so we can get a picture of me eating some apple pie with God fearing, honest, decent, common folk?"


Soon, though, the thin veneer of civility is scraped away. The kid gloves come off, and the brass knuckles are put on. And things get mean. Eventually somebody will say something completely awful, and justify it by pointing out "I am not one who worries about being politically correct."*

That is when it starts, soon all the candidates are running from microphone to microphone, trying to be less politically correct than everybody else. Rudeness and incivility are virtue.

"At long last I have broken free from the oppressive yoke of political correctness! Casting aside the straight jacket brings the freedom to tell you the terrible truth about the lying, corrupt losers who would rob me of my throne."




Everybody would like to see a little more candor, and truth from the people who would be president. But, candor, and truth about their plans, their vision, the methods and means they would use to improve the country. But, once they have escaped from the confines of political correctness they are powerless to stop.

Then it comes full circle, liberated, and ready to rumble they point out how political correctness is ruining our country. It seems a little suspect. Imagine, for a minute, standing in line, at WalMart, and the person in front of you, who may have been in line since the last election, and has groceries, a DVD player, and a vacuum, finally gets to the register. Without so much as a hello, a smile, or a nod of the head the cashier starts scanning the items. The gallon of milk rings up at $75.00 dollars. Do you suppose, even for a minute, when you are being questioned by the police about the incident that you are going to say, "they were both so polite, the customer, and the employee, it was terrible." Probably not.

I am not exactly sure what it means to be politically correct, but unless it involves open hostility, anger, blame, and caustic indifference that is probably not really troubling most people too much. Stores, city streets, there is not an abundance of overt politeness anywhere.

* Of course the number and composure of candidates in this seasons "America's Got a Lot of Damned Gall" have accelerated the process.