This title, of course, refers to my own work. I am a moron. I am closed-minded and arrogant. My ideas are the only ones that matter, and they often involve the encouragement of violence, are littered with baseless insults, and are communicated with ghastly diction and syntax. I can’t believe anyone in his or her right mind would consider for one moment that I have anything worthwhile to say, and I am further astounded that there is a single Republican left in the world because everything on the right of the political spectrum is obvious crap.

Not.

But someone in my dorm hall feels this way. He (I’m assuming a male did this based on a simple handwriting analysis) came by my door sometime between 10:30pm and 5:00am last night and wrote on my whiteboard, “Your misguided Republican mindless hate mongering is what is wrong with America. Meaning this,” which he followed up with an arrow pointing down to my Fresh Elephant advertisement. This guy is more than welcome to disagree with my conservative epithets. But the adjectives used to describe his disgust with me (none of which were separated
by their necessitated commas, by the way) are beyond inaccurate.

“MISGUIDED”
Wow, you’re a humble son of a gun, ain’t ya? To say that someone else is mentally blind and deranged solely on the grounds that their ideas differ from yours is incredibly elitist, and if we’re all so concerned about global warming, our first order of business should be to suffocate your monstrously huge head as I’m sure it produces an enormous amount of waste. You, sir, are arrogant, and I am sorry that you find yourself incapable of having the single iota of tolerance it takes to recognize that not everyone who disagrees with you is just plain unhinged. To sum up, I’m not MISguided. I’m just guided on a path that you haven’t yet explored. Join me anytime you want, and feel free to show me yours.

“REPUBLICAN”
Ok.

“MINDLESS”
Looking back at my posts in summation, I can give myself high marks for information and education. I use actual citations from accredited sources left and right, base most of my remarks off of legitimate newsletters I get and study on a daily basis, and I articulate my arguments beautifully, if I do say so myself. I have college professors, high school principals, English teachers, business executives, and former political officials reading what I write, and while some don’t agree with me, they all support my efforts and acknowledge that my logic and writing skills are superb. I am never one to get on my high horse. In fact, I don’t even have a high horse to mount. But when someone questions my intelligence, I will respond with full confidence that they are mistaken, because, if there is one thing I know infallibly about myself, it is that my intellect is strong. Do not discount my brainpower just because it produces different results than yours.

“HATE MONGERING”
I’m not 100% sure who exactly it is I’m being accused of hating, but no matter who this guy thinks it is, he’s wrong. I do not hate any single demographic, nor do I feel I convey hatred for any individual, idea, or political party. I state (with acumen!) that I think certain ideas or candidates are wrong, and I give fully substantiated reasons as to why, and I claim my own views with resilience. Hatred is never a factor. Granted, I often use a biting or sarcastic tone, either because I’m peeved when I write or I think it’ll make it more fun to read, but I try very hard to not alienate or insult anyone, except for maybe the candidates themselves (but if SNL does it, so can I). I can’t count how many times I have said something along the lines of, “it’s ok if you disagree with me” or “tell me I’m wrong,” but apparently this is not sufficient compensation for all the other times I go off on tyrannical monologues wherein I discuss the bloody holocaust of all things liberal, right? Your previous use of “misguided” and “mindless” tells me that you’re far more “hate mongering” than I am.

In fact, all of your words indicate to me that you never even read the stuff you’re criticizing. Maybe you saw the Republican elephant logo in the background and assumed my writing would be something disdainful, but I’m afraid, sir, that you’re sorely mistaken, and I’d appreciate it if you’d reread (or just read) my stuff. After that, I give you full amnesty in your judgment, so long as you don’t succumb to further hate-mongering.

Aside from your adjectives, I take umbrage with your haughty generalization that I am “what is wrong with America.” Firstly, I can think of a whole lot of things that are wrong with America, and freedom of expression and competition of ideas never come up on my list. I could so easily take this one statement you’ve made on my little whiteboard and tell you what’s really wrong with America: we don’t listen to one another. We’re all so stuck in what we believe, even when we have no idea why we believe it, that all things unfamiliar are automatically filed as evil. Your snap judgment of me is what is wrong with America. Your superiority and hardheadedness are what is wrong with America. Your grammatical ineptitude is what is wrong with America!

I am so sick of all this! I see the looks people give me when they see me unlocking a door decorated with John McCain merchandise. Do you think I’m blind? Republicans have been blacklisted, for crying out loud, and we do not deserve the rap we’ve been getting. Right across the hall from me is girl with an Obama sticker on her door. Have I ever vandalized it or challenged her intelligence via her whiteboard? No, because I respect her freedom to say whatever she wants to say. And until people start granting Republicans this same respect, we will be fully founded in our assumption that we’re just bigger, more adult people than they are. Please, prove us wrong.

My post-debate reactions were unimpassioned; I felt each candidate gave a mediocre performance. Obama seemed more smooth, of course, and McCain seemed more relatable, but neither gave overly convincing arguments or seemed to capture and quell the underlying frustrations of either party. If I were an independent voter who, as of Friday night, had no idea who to vote for, I would still have no idea who to vote for.


So I’m calling it a draw.

But because most political media is still focused on trying to decide which man was the victor, it has been easy for Obama to sweep some bad press under the rug as he proves himself to be a proponent for censorship and the revocation of essential, long-standing rights.

Yesterday, Obama’s campaign caught wind of some NRA-PVF (that’s the National Rifle Association’s Political Victory Fund) ads that were set to air in the coming weeks. The ads dug into Obama’s longstanding anti-gun voting record, which he apparently wants to keep a secret.


While I’m not wildly dedicated to maintaining the 2nd Amendment, I support it. I have an NRA sticker on the back of my car from the previous owner, and, if I’m being honest, I keep it there because it kind of makes me feel cool. I’ve always thought that if we outlaw guns, we’ll just find guns in the hands of outlaws. And then the responsible citizens who use them wisely won’t have them when they need them. The right to bear arms is one of the originals, something our founding fathers thought was absolutely essential, and I think it ill-advised to go questioning the wisdom of these men.

I think, though, that when most people debate this issue, their minds are primarily on handguns. But Obama is so liberal, so extreme, that he has voted to ban nearly all guns, including rifles, shotguns, and all the ammunition most common for hunting. My dad, my grandpa, and all my uncles hunted regularly when I was growing up, and not a single one of them ever got shot. This is in part because to obtain a hunting license, you’re required to take a gun safety course. But it’s also because hunters don’t typically use their rifles for murder. A 2006 study showed that 9 in 10 crimes involving a firearm were committed with handguns, not with hunting rifles.

So I’m not sure what Obama’s justification for his many anti-rifle votes is. Other than furthering the government’s control over our lives.

But I’m not sure what irks me more: Obama’s voting record, or his new-found love of censorship. His campaign is doing everything in its power to make sure no one ever sees these NRA ads, including threatening TV and radio stations who are considering airing them (if you want to see the most controversial, go here: http://election.newsmax.com/nra_Hunter.html). I understand that sometimes campaigns get down and dirty, divulging personal secrets or attacking a candidate’s family members or bringing up irrelevant issues just for shock value. But this series of ads is legitimate, and I see this issue as fair game. America households, nearly 40% of which report owning at least one gun, need to know about this candidate’s leftist past (and present and future) in order to cast an informed vote. And unless Obama is, for some reason, ashamed of or embarrassed by this record, he should be just fine with letting these ads air and showing the voting public where he stands.

But instead, he’s trying to control what our media is allowed to show us. He’s trying to limit free speech. He’s trying to keep us blind and defenseless.

But who knows? Maybe I’ll just ask George Orwell who I should vote for.

Whether or not you agree with or oppose extensive gun control legislation, I think we can all agree that we’d like to keep one right, that of our First Amendment, intact. And I’d like a president who’ll fight for that, not quash it. If you think I’m taking this too far, look up some of Obama’s comments about Rush Limbaugh and Bill O’Reilly. You might start to understand that this is a man who digs censorship in many forms.

I pray that none of you vote oral duct tape into our White House. Just something to think about.

It seems strange that there has been so little campaign activity in the past few weeks. I haven’t seen any outlandish breaking news or scandals, no badmouthing from one side the other, no venomous ads, not even any vandalism on my door. It’s as though we’re in this eerie calm before the political storm, and I’m not sure if I should wait it out or start stocking up on canned goods.

I claim not to be a prophet, but I feel like, just maybe, I might know what’s coming. This idea isn’t purely of my own premonition, mind you; many strategists have been musing over this quiet possibility since the RNC and are just holding their breaths for the moment it actually happens. Predictions say: Biden is stepping down, Hillary is swooping in.

This notion terrifies some people. It encourages some others. I’m not sure how I feel about it. My first assumption is that it would backfire. Everyone would be able to see (because the transparency is atrocious) that it’s out of pure strategy and is a lame, copycat move because Sarah Palin has shaken poll numbers like crazy since her debut. Replacing Biden with Hillary would put another tick mark under the already crowded “Obama Copies McCain Whenever Popular” column, and maybe, finally, people would start to see that the self-proclaimed catalyst of change really isn’t much of a free thinker.

The Republican ticket is getting more female support than ever. Obama, assuming his studliness would woo every woman’s vote (a tactic that was actually working for a while), is a little T.O.’ed that Palin has teetered her gender’s opinion. His vengeance may come in the form of the thing closest to a woman the Democrats have to offer: Hillary Clinton. Would it work? Would the women return to the Blue camps because Hillary, their heroin, came back as a second-best to the party’s golden boy?

Or would her supporters still feel shafted?

And would Hillary even be willing?

Or, the scenario I see as the most likely, everything might just even out, and this whole upheaval will have been for not. Some Hillary supporters will be happy to see their girl’s name under VP, and they’ll vote with the Democrats. Some Hillary supporters will be disgusted to see their girl’s name under anything but President, and they’ll vote with the Republicans as a silent protest. Women on the fence will be split down the middle, some thinking that Obama finally came to his feminist senses, and some thinking that making such a drastic change this late in the game is a foreshadow to how erratic his presidency would be. Polls will rise, fall, and readjust to approximately right where they are now.

And right now, McCain is owning. So do it, Obama. I really don’t mind.

When I first came to college, I kept my mouth generally shut whenever someone brought up politics, mostly because I could tell that the speakers who initiated such discussions were the overly-vocal, stubborn, uninformed members of their respective parties, and whatever I had to say, be it in support or opposition, would be discounted. I then quietly staked my claim as a proud Republican, and, as many of you know, I got a decent amount of flack for it (on a side note, my beliefs remain unaffected).

Things quieted down after people started to realize that—what a shocker—I might actually know what I’m talking about. They didn’t start agreeing with me, and I didn’t expect them to, but they at least respected my opinions and noted that they were all backed with factual support and logic. But I am not by any means the only Republican in history to have substantiated my platform. For some reason, though, we have been conditioned to think that we’re wrong, to think that we should be ashamed of ourselves for sporting elephants and red, to think that we shouldn’t speak because someone else will attack. We have, therefore, been silenced, and have thus lost touch with our comrades.

But we are not rare. We are not the minority. We are equally numbered and equally strong. We’re just not as damn loud about it.

I have two bumper stickers on my car, one that states simply “McCain for President 2008” and another that subtly reads, “No thanks, keep the change.” Driving to Boulder this past weekend, I stopped at a red light and noticed in my rear-view mirror a man and his wife reading the back of my car. They chuckled, saw that I saw them, and gave me a thumbs-up. Later, the same stickers got me flipped off, but I was still so happy about the first reaction that I didn’t care. I was glad to be a lifeline for one conservative couple stuck in a liberal town. I was glad to be a ray of hope that told them, “no, you’re not alone.”

I know you think I’m overdramatizing this, but until you’ve had your political identity stifled into a coma, you can’t understand. And in the past two days since the thumbs-up incident, I have had a girl stop by my dorm to thank me for being her fellow Republican, and another message left on my whiteboard saying, “Yay McCain! Finally!” These people have been so starved for allies, fighting so hard not to be force-fed false hope and loose change, that something as simple as a sticker can create a haven for them.

If you’re preaching coexistence, practice it. Let the Republicans of the world thrive, too, and don’t try to shame us for thinking our thoughts. We might not be the media’s favorite children or live beneath rainbows or really, really hate guns, but we have the same liberties as the Democrats next door. Grant us our rightful speaking privileges, if you would be so kind.

And, to the Republicans in the audience, quit shutting up.

Eighteen hours ago, I was the victim of a hate crime.

Ok, that’s a little extreme, but my dorm room door WAS vandalized because of my proudly displayed, conservative ideals. They weren’t obnoxious adornments or anything offensive, just a Fresh Elephant advertisement and a John McCain sticker. I’ve been choking on Obama merchandise since I got here, so I figured I’d be allowed my drop in the political bucket. But evidently contrary opinions are not entitled to free speech. As it turns out, basic courtesy and first amendment rights are reserved exclusively for people who have identical thoughts, and if anyone with ideas outside your comfort zone rears his head, it’s fully justified to lash out in irate attacks, stomping the stranger to death until he curls up like a wounded spider, spasmodically twitching his daddy-longish legs.

Sarcasm.

So here’s what happened: I’ve had my Fresh Elephant blog (freshelephant.blogspot.com, if you haven’t visited yet) advertised on my door for about a week now, but the Republican elephant symbol on it is subtle and faded, so no one really paid attention. Yesterday, my roommate stuck a John McCain sticker (a little one, mind you) below our peephole. That’s it. I strolled back from the dining hall in the evening and saw that someone had scribbled “REPUBLICANS SUCK” over our whiteboard messages and had also used the dry-erase marker to cross out McCain’s name.

Sure, whiteboards are fair game. Everyone has them hanging up and anyone can write whatever they’re motivated to. I didn’t much care for the message, but it wouldn’t have hacked me off too bad. The sticker, however, is now forever smudged with slander, and no matter how much I rub it or how much Windex I use, there is the faint outline of a thick, black squiggle through the name of a man I respect and support very much.

I do not expect everyone in this building to honor John McCain as I do. I’m in the Performing Arts hall, for crying out loud, I know we’ve got Democrats. And I’m ok with it. But if they run all over the place preaching a message of love and tolerance, they cannot turn around and alienate anyone dissimilar. I am also a believer in an almost universal acceptance, but I make an effort to practice such theories as well. If I went door-to-door down these hallways and tried to vandalize every liberal token, I would run out of ink. So I guess it’s a good thing I’m not that insolent and closed-minded.

Disagree with me; I encourage it. But have the balls to approach me, not a sticker, about it, and be prepared to show me that you know what you’re talking about. Because if your vocal arguments are as cowardly and hot-headed as your marker demonstration, you’re not going to win with me. Say it’s an oxymoron, but I am an informed Republican, and I am ready and willing to articulate my support for my party sans name-calling and defacement.

Bring it.

I can’t believe I’m being charged tuition for Indoctrination 101. Every Tuesday and Thursday at 11 AM, I sit in a stiff classroom on the outskirts of campus and wait for my professor, an au-natural hippie aged approximately one half-century, to arrive. She enters alongside her pet student, candidly engaged in a merciless bash session of our current U.S. government and throws out some violent fantasy about a bloody decapitation in the oval office (even though she grimaces whenever a novel discusses animal slaughter or non-human blood of any kind). I can deal with the idea that she has opinions, and I truly don’t mind that we disagree. It is when her politics interfere with my learning environment that we develop a problem.

Although I could conjecture as to my professor’s political stance after just a first glance (sometimes surface judgments are spot-on), I figured, “hey, we’re in British Literature. How often will US politics be relevant?” Well, the answer is never, but somehow it’s still shown up daily. It’s as though my teacher has set out on a mission to bend every student she encounters against conservatism. She makes an effort to connect the evils of the Republican Party to everything.

For example, when on the subject of King Henry VI, the professor commented on his age and poor political judgment. “It’s like electing a baby George Bush and having a hundred Dick Cheneys running around,” she laughed. I decided not to point out that if Bush and Cheney are in fact the blood-thirsty, war-loving men she thinks they are, they may have actually done quite well for themselves in Medieval England. She went on to discuss how dreadful life was during this Henry’s reign, all the while making correlations to Bush’s incompetence. She then said, “really, would you elect a baby to be president of the United States?” I also decided not to point out that the biggest political baby we’ve ever seen up for high public election is Barack Obama, her Messiah. Later, when commenting on author Sir Thomas Malory, she poignantly stated, “one group of people might call him a criminal, and another group might call him a great guerilla fighter, a soldier.” I made a final decision not to point out the argument that Bush the Evil is in the same reputational limbo.

I made the decisions to bite my tongue for fear that my opinions could jeopardize my grade. I thought college was supposed to encourage free thought and provide a backboard off of which to bounce uncommon ideas. This professor quickly extinguished my hopeful, intellectual flame.

Higher education has become an institution for initiating government agendas and social change. No matter which party is pushing the agenda or what the intended changes are, this is wrong. The job of a teacher is to spark original and innovative thoughts. Students should be learning to develop their own logic, to become quality thinkers, not robots who regurgitate a professor’s policies on cue. The classroom should stimulate thoughts, not provide them.

Thankfully, my mother, a middle-school teacher well acquainted with such school-board intentions, raised me with immunity to these underhanded tactics. And I feel my thoughts have potential to be more organic because of this. All minds deserve a like opportunity. Education should not taint us. I have watched my mother forced to implement teachings that directly contradict her morality, such as bribery systems for mediocre deeds, over-testing her kids to meet standards (note that I do NOT agree with Bush’s NCLB legislation), and the elimination of failure.

Whether or not you agree with the current agendas being pushed, I think we can all see that pushing any agenda at all is detrimental to our nation’s future. If we want to continue to be a nation of bright inspirations and pioneering, we cannot allow our educational system to cut out an overlay of which thoughts are acceptable. Our generation is all about fighting against the mainstream, right? Let’s fight.

I was half-heartedly watching some late-night television before bed when everyone started insulting Sarah Palin, her pregnant daughter, and the family’s very lifestyle. Conan O’Brien, pretending to quote the governor, said “everyone knows marriage isn’t for gay people—it’s for pregnant teenagers!” He also said that as Palin is a member of the NRA, she must be in favor of “shotgun weddings.” Craig Ferguson, in reference to McCain’s recent endorsement from the Log Cabin Republicans, said, “Here’s a group that won’t embarrass (him) with any surprise pregnancies!” Finally, Jimmy Kimmel jested that Palin’s main campaign promise was to put “a walrus in every igloo and a whale tooth in every papoose.”

Now, I understand that these men make jokes for a living and I’m not to take these words as venomous or hateful or serious in any way. But the above words of these men are simply humorous retellings of actual arguments brought up by the media and the Democrat party. These most recent slams are utterly dripping with hypocrisy and mixed messages, and it’s all leaking in and oozing out from every imaginable angle. I’m appalled that that party hasn’t yet registered some of this double-talk and tried to bathe away the shame. If you haven’t yet figured it out, allow me to enlighten:

The situation with Palin’s daughter is not only a living testament to the ticket’s strong pro-life backbone, but an embodiment of a class of women that the Democrat party says it fully supports. One major demographic for liberals, now and in past elections, has been single mothers. They struggle to make ends meet, they are sacrificial and selfless, and they deserve a leg up from the government (although Obama seems to think otherwise, if you’d like to reference http://freshelephant.blogspot.com/2008/08/fillet-mignon-and-fatherhood.html). Bristol Palin could be one of these single mothers, should her boyfriend flake out, and she’s having her baby anyway. She is going to face extreme emotional hardship, as all teen mothers do, and, if they are to be true to what they’ve always said, the Democrats should be eager to help her and all those like her.

Instead, they say that she’s proof of Palin’s irresponsible parenting (because all the Democrat kids I know obey their parent’s moral code 100%), and rumors have arisen, tabloid fire and TMZ igniting, that Palin’s youngest son, Trig, is secretly Bristol’s.

This isn’t The Young and the Restless, people, it’s a presidential election. Can we grow up, please?

Furthermore, people seem to discredit Palin because she’s from Alaska. It’s a small population, it’s separate from the rest of our states, so she’s obviously out of touch with everyone else (wait, isn’t Obama from Hawaii? Interesting…). This is another major flaw in the Democrat’s logic: Palin is a middle-class, hard-working woman, and her family is completely average. She has both been and lived with lower and middle-class Americans, just your typical blue-collar men and women, all just making a living. The people Palin governed were our bread-and-butter citizens.

Aren’t these the people the Democrats say they want to help? They’re going to get tax cuts, they’re going to get affordable health care. They’re our focus, our drive, our neighbors. They love them! But when a real, live member of the average American populace shows up, she is not in for love, but for criticism and disdain. Sure, maybe the Democrats want to help these people, they just want to keep them at arm’s length while they’re doing it. They’re fine giving them handouts, but not allowing actual success.

So Palin’s government experience isn’t good enough because it was “just Alaska.” Well, hell, at least it’s experience.

Palin has agreed to put herself up for public office and, therefore, we’re all entitled to poke and prod at her life and figure out if she’s up to par. Feel free to criticize. Just make sure that the things you chose to hate about her aren’t things your party stands to support.

Women’s liberation. It was about more than just burning your bras, letting your pits get furry, and shouting “down with makeup and panty hose!” It was about equal pay, divorce initiation rights, suffrage, access to higher education, and the opportunity to reach ambitious career goals. The huge feminist movement of the 1960s said, “I am woman, hear me roar!” The major accomplishments made therein were due in large part to Democrats, and they have since been seen as the party that fully supports a woman through all her endeavors.

Unless she threatens victory for the golden boy.

Since the announcement of McCain’s running mate, the prominent story the media has sunk its teeth into is whether or not Palin can be both a tenacious VP and a dedicated mother. “She’s got a child with special needs,” they’ve repeated, or “it looks like she has her priorities backwards.”

Funny how dedication to fatherhood has never been a factor when electing a male president with kids. I guess we all just figure the First Lady will keep the home going. She’ll wear the clean, white apron and bake gooey, chocolate cookies and shuttle the soccer team around and rub Mr. President’s tired feet and appear in a Hoover commercial, looking beautiful all the while, of course. Daddy’s busy running the country, so he’s excused from his fatherly duties.

This is disgusting. If a father can juggle a high political office and a family, so can a mother. Watching Palin’s children at the RNC tonight, it looks to me like the family is in full support of their matron, and that she’ll be able to stay fully involved in their lives while she pursues an important career goal. And her husband, the father of the house, will do just fine supplementing as the hockey team’s escort.

I hope Obama’s daughters don’t get neglected by Daddy while he’s in the Oval Office. But I guess Michelle alone is sufficient parental attention. Gag.

How dare the Democrats call themselves women’s liberators and simultaneously doubt the power of one of womanhood’s best representatives. Sarah Palin is intelligent, articulate, poised, strong, and capable. After seeing her speak tonight, I have no doubt that she will make a superb Vice President and maintain her standing as an involved mother.

Attention Democrats: cut the hypocrisy and quit doubting the power of a woman.

Alright, I'm touching it. The untouchable issue. It's such a dirty word: abortion. And it should be a dirty word. It's a terrible thing. And anyone who says it's not is sick. I don't care if I offend you by saying it or if you think i shouldn't be so blunt with my language, that's the way it is.

Now that I've gotten that off my chest:

I've developed an intolerance for the term "women's rights". It's a phrase that has become synonymous to abortion rights (because obviously that's all we women care about), and it therefore seems to follow that unless you're pro-choice, you're anti-woman. I am neither. I am a woman, and I am proud to be such. I feel as though I have every right I could ever long for, and I humbly thank every woman who came before me and fought for each one of those rights. I can walk around in pants because of them. I can earn just as much money as a man because of them. I will vote in November because of their effort and their pain. Women are powerful, and we deserve nothing but freedom.

But if someone were to take away my right to an abortion, I would not lose this pride. In fact, I think it would grow. My pride in my feminity reminds me not just that we are equals to men, but that we are vessels. We are the only half of our species with the right to bring forth life. We have a priviledge that no other can match. We women are the sustainers of mankind, and without this sacred right, we would all cease to exist.

Abortion cheapens us. It underminds the sanctity of birthing human life. It allows us to discard our most powerful and unique right. We fight for the right to do it, and yet, when the battle was won, we were lost. Women have stopped cherishing themselves for the veins of essence they are. We are limp, we are void, we are masculine, and those are not the rights our foremothers fought for.

We have the right to preserve our virginities. We have the right to be selective with our mates. We have the right to buy rubbers and pills so we don't "use our gift" when we don't want to. But if, instead, we sacrifice all those rights and opt to settle for just one, the right to an abortion, we have the right to go back to square one.

If you ask me if I support women's rights, I will tell you with full enthusiasm, "yes, yes I do." But I am not pro-choice. I am pro-life to my very core, because my core is where I keep my right to reach my full womanly potential, and that is the right I fight for. Give me the right to bear life; allow not abortion to usurp me.

It’s easy to confuse liberalism with freedom because it initiates change, and the idea that nothing is concrete opens doors and therefore lifts any feelings of entrapment one might have. Conservatism works to keep things the same. While this may come across as stagnancy or limitation, if the thing being preserved is freedom, permanence is good.

Thus is the core difference between the two ideals: remember the anecdote, “don’t fix it if it ain’t broken”? Conservatives noted the lesson; liberals did not. Barack Obama is the poster child for this bought of liberal blindness. His campaign has been built on the basis of change, and because everyone seems to hate the way things are right now, change sounds like what we need. Change sounds like liberation. It sounds like sunshine. It makes us feel warm and fuzzy.

But I’d rather watch a Disney movie if that’s the outcome I’m shooting for, not elect a Socialist. On the surface, Obama’s big changes make us want to stutter along with David Bowie lyrics, but when we listen to the record backward we hear the hidden messages, much like Satan left behind rock and roll in the 70s. The specific changes Obama wants to make will take us further from real freedom than we’ve ever been. If we need change, this isn’t it.

At this point, the conservative candidate is also proposing change, but in a much more positive way. McCain wants to return the core philosophies of the United States, the roots out of which we grew into such a strong establishment.

No one is satisfied with the way things are now. Everyone wants a change. But if we chomp at the bit at the mention of the word before we look into things more meticulously, we’re going to trip mid-race and get shipped to the glue factory. All I’m asking is that we vote with care. Study, divulge, scrutinize both candidates from home life to social ideas to moral codes to their whereabouts at the time of Nicole Simpson’s murder. If none of us can be open-minded enough to consider all the points on the table, we’ve become what we despise about our opposition.

Please, at least smell the Kool-Aid first.

I just registered to vote. And in the boxes open for Affiliation, I proudly sketched, in blue ink and all-block letter, R-E-P-U-B-L-I-C-A-N, a word that has had me vilified more pungently than usual since I got to college. It seems everyone here is a Democrat. There are people on street corners with clipboards and forms, asking if I’ve registered to vote. And, in their O-“bomb symbol”-A t-shirts, they’re not subtle about how or why they want you to register.

So much for anonymity and objectivity.

I’m all for supporting your party. I’ve been a Republican since I started thinking about politics (and, truly, before I even knew acknowledged it), and I don’t plan on changing that. That’s not to say that I’m stubborn or closed-minded, it’s just that I’ve thoroughly and legitimately thought about what I believe is Truth and have come out on the right side (you can interpret “right” however you desire). If you’re a Democrat, I don’t expect you to have some major epiphany and start agreeing with me (but if you want to, I’m totally down with that). We are all, as citizens of arguably the freest country in the world, entitled to hold and voice our political ideals to the world regardless of reciprocation.

But this is not the election to blindly trust party lines. I know far too many voters that are basing their ballots on nothing more than the D or the R behind a man’s name, but on the November ticket, those letters are so skewed, so faded, or just so seriously jacked up that using them as credible indications of presidential merit is beyond unwise.

Trusting the center line in this election doesn’t work because neither candidate can even see it. Obama is so far left, the line is a dot to him, and McCain can’t see the line to either side because he’s sitting right on top of it as he tried to get everyone to hold hands and bridge the aisle. So this election comes down to the man himself. McCain or Obama. I’ve already looked at things issue by issue and made a semi-decision (I say “semi” because I’m not satisfactorily pleased with either platform 100%). But to further convince myself so that I may be proud to cast my vote, I have begun to examine these men as people. I have read books, watched interviews, watched debates, and looked into the eyes of these people to see whose character I’m drawn to, who I can trust. Here’s the way I see it:

John McCain is old. He seems like a wise, jolly grandfather to me. I can imagine knocking on his front door (probably oak with a brass knocker) and having him and dear ol’ Cindy open their home to me, waving me inside and inviting me to have a seat on their overstuffed, floral-patterned couch. There would already be a litter of grandchildren inside, gathered on the floor around John’s plush recliner. He’d resume the war story he’d been telling about some valiant battle or the guidance of a brilliant general. They’d, of course, ooh and ah. Upon finishing, he’d go to the kitchen and help Cindy make a pot of coffee which he’d offer to me alongside a tray of peanut brittle or some such homemade sweet treat. While we munched, he’s ask me how my life was, what I’d been doing, what I’ll be doing. He wouldn’t ask out of burden or courtesy, but because he had a genuine interest. When our conversation was over, he’d ask if I wanted to stay for dinner, and if I had to go he’d tell me to stop by again any time.

It would be a lovely afternoon.

Across town, I’d step up to a wrought iron gate and push a button next to an intercom. A voice would come across saying “Obama residence, do you have an appointment?” And I’d say “no, just visiting,” and they’d send me away. But for the sake of my story, let’s pretend the gate opened. I’d walk up a path with luscious green grass to either side. The front door, as well as the whole house, would be a bright white, adorned with pillars. The gold knocker would be hanging out of the mouth of a medieval-looking lion’s head, and I’d nervously bang it a few times. Michelle would answer the door and ask me to take my shoes off, and I would. We’d go into the living room, which has been meticulously cleaned, and I’d sit on the plastic-covered couch that squeaked like a fart every time I moved. “What can I do for you?” she’d ask me. I’d tell her I just wanted to chat. “We’ve been very busy lately, as I’m sure you can imagine,” she’d say. About then is when Barack walks in from the other room, reading a book through half-lens glasses. He’d say hello in a way that indicated his confusion as to my presence, but he’d shut the book and sit down in a chair across the mahogany coffee table. I’d ask him about, say, the situation in the Middle East, and he’d make a statement full of “uh” and “umm” and “well” and I’d become unenlightened. I’d say thank you for the visit and the couple would walk me to the door, watching silently while I put my shoes back on, and shutting the door behind me.

I’m uncomfortable just writing about it.

Call them judgments or preconceptions or stereotypes or whatever you’d like, these are the scenarios I see when I look into the eyes of the two men. Political affiliations completely aside, when I comes to which human being I’d rather vote for, I’m still checking Johnny’s box.

The Olympics. The world comes together every four years to pit our strongest, fastest, lithest, most tenacious athletes against each other to see which country’s youth is truly golden. Although we are in competition, no other event seems to breed as much international unity as these games. Individual patriotism, however deep-seated, does not overpower camaraderie between mismatched flags. For just a few days, we do not see other countries as debt collectors or political allies or roadblocks of our affairs. We are all just humans, rooting for our teams and experiencing every loss, victory, injury, and fairy tale in tandem.

But every night, after I turn off the instant replays and national anthems, I remember that everyone hates America. Isn’t that right? We’re the international bad guys, the global heavy-weights of idiocy and pollution and general pig-headedness? That’s the impression I get from many politicians and average members of the US populace alike. And whenever I speak of my own devotion to the stars and stripes, it automatically makes me a conductor of the machine that is American Evil.

Since when did it become an American trait to hate America? We’re all so ashamed of our nation, taught to ignore anything good we do. Our schools sucks, we love war, we’re nuclear energy hypocrites, we stick our big, democratic nose where it’s said to be unwelcome, and we’re a bunch of fatties. Focusing on the things previously listed, I’d hate us, too. But this is not the definition of America.

I’ve always considered myself a mild patriot. While I’d like to claim that I’m whole-heartedly proud of my country, almost to the point of nationalism, and that I wear my passion on my red, white, and blue sleeve, my patriotism has been blasted by the anti-American epithets and bitter cynicism that fly under the name of liberal media, and it has been a struggle to keep my grip on it. My mother, moved to tears by the words of a Frenchman, seemed to have forgotten, or tucked so deeply away, her love for her country that a foreigner had to remind her that we do good things. While this new French president’s speech was incredible, my mother’s reaction to it made me sad, because the duty of inspiring patriotism in US citizens’ hearts should not fall in the hands of anyone who does not reside within our own borders. Instead of beaming with pride, we tear down our nation from within. How might we stand when we don’t even support ourselves?

It should not come just once every four years that we feel something besides hatred for our great land. Call us what you will, but our country is a source of hope for the rest of the world, a powerhouse of opportunity, and a safeguard for anyone pledging allegiance. I don’t claim American flawlessness, but we are not the soul of blackness our own people make us out to be. And what saddens me most is that this reputation is one we have created ourselves. And only we can undo it.

I am not ashamed that I well up whenever our anthem plays for a gold medalist our flag has bred. I am not ashamed that we are more fortunate than anyone else in the world. I am not ashamed that we are strong. I am proud to be an American, and I am proud to have such pride.

Stop letting shame define Americanism. It is the antithesis of our foundation, and a return to our roots is apparently long overdue.

Because of German-made mechanical difficulties concerning a BMW, I spent a lot of time today in the car with my sister on several fix-it missions around the city. On one of our conversational tangents, the sis devised a scheme to go downtown during the DNC and slap McCain stickers on everyone's cars. I was an enthused proponent of this suggested vandalism until we both realized security personel would be out in packs, sniffing around for Republican blood and ready to read us our rights.

That's when my sister joked, "once Obama's president, it'll go 'you have the right to a baby daddy. You have the right to welfare'" and so forth. What started as witticism soon began to churn thicker in my head, and it really sunk in just how much things would change in our country if Obama were elected. This huge campaign of CHANGE, CHANGE, CHANGE! What does it really mean? What will our nation look like afterward? Here's my prediction:

I've watched Obama's Fathers Day speech three times now, trying to pinpoint why it irks me so much. The meat of what he's saying is good, but when I chew it, it gets stuck in between my teeth and has my tonguing it until the entire inside of my mouth is raw. It bothers me. And, as I hit the YouTube play button a 4th time, I finally understand why.

Obama's overall message was that there are too many men who think "fatherhood ends at conception." This I do not dispute. I think it's detestable that some men will knock a woman up and run along freely. I think there should be a much more strict requirement of paternal responsibility. On these points, I think Obama is right (a combination of words I never thought I'd say).

And that's when the meat gets wedged in. He goes on to talk about how fathers who step up to the plate should be rewarded. Men who pay child support should get monetary benefits from the federal government. Umm, why? Why do these men deserve accolades for doing the right thing? For doing what they're responsible for? This is a behavior that should be expected. It is not an above-and-beyond feat or an outstanding accomplishment of moral cahones for a man to do what he is supposed to do, or what a court would tell him he has to do. And might I add, while a father who pays child support is far better than one who refuses, a monthly donation is still not parenting. If we're going to reward anyone, reward the dads who play, teach, discipline, feed, clean, and actively love their children. In this same speech, Obama refers to an 8th grade graduation ceremony that he said was far too big a celebration for an accomplishment that should just be an expectation. "You know, this is just the 8th grade...let's just give 'em a hand shake...don't get carried away with this 8th grade graduation. You're supposed to graduate the 8th grade." Apply this same logic to the legislation you're proposing here, Barack. It's the same thing. Do not reward the mediocre or the expected or the commonplace; a man-up approach to fatherhood falls into this category.

And on a brief aside, Obama, where will we be getting the money to reward this money-sending fathers? Is it from-- hey, where'd my paycheck go?! Yes, it's from your numerous tax increases, thank you very much.

Anyway.

Going further, Obama's message seemed to lack mention of mothers, other than to say they "need help." I'm not going to be so butch and feminist as to say that mothers don't need help (they totally do), but should they not be "rewarded" as well? If the single mother is the parent raising the child, bending over backwards, juggling work and her family, scraping to make rent every month, and all the biological father of her kid does is send an envelope every thirty days, HE should be the one to get the governmental pat on the back? Gag me!

This speech and the general mood of its reception also reminded me of how invincible this man has become. His message is not a new one. Not too long ago, Bill Cosby criticized AWOL fathers in his community and he was beaten to a pulp for it. People called him a traitor to his race, an Uncle Tom. But when Obama says the exact same words, he is praised for it. He is Messiah. And I'm still trying to figure out why.

So I guess I'm asking someone to explain it to me. To my friends who are Obama supporters, I am genuinely curious as to the origin of your love for this man. I have consistently provided reasons to vote against him and have stumbled upon very few reasons for vote for him, and yet he's roped in almost half of the country. Help me understand the fad.

I'm at a loss. And I need a toothpick.

The Democrats are ticked off that McCain keeps campaigning for drilling in ANWR. The Republicans are ticked off that Obama won't campaign for drilling in ANWR. Bush totally stuck it to Congress with his lift on the ban, ticking off his opposition once again. And moreover, several liberals and environmentalists are ticked off that anyone is even considering drilling for oil in, around, or of an area that shares air with some animal's natural habitat.

Let me start by saying I don't hate animals. I don't want to see any species suffer or go extinct or depleat in population or start growing extras heads because of radioactive pollution, ok? But I don't think drilling for oil will do any of these things. Once the pipelines are in, I'm pretty sure no animal, even one with wicked-awesome spidey sense, will notice any difference. Actually, one study that I read about caribou populations before and after the installation of an oil line reported an INCREASE in numbers because the ground was a little warmer and they liked it better. As long as it is done cleanly and securely, drilling for oil in Alaska will have no negative effect on the nature reserve, and it will have a positive effect on our economy and America's independence.

I have always wondered how extreme environmentalists can believe in a certain few ideas all at once, even though many of them directly contradict one another. Allow me to specify: humans are evil, and evolution is truth. I think it's safe to say that as a whole environmentalists are also evolutionists. This doesn't fit. To put it into a syllogism, if "survival of the fittest" is an evolutionary law and humans are surviving (at the top of the chain, mind you), any choice we make that affects a lower species is our right, and if they can't survive, too bad. They're not the fittest.

Second non-sequiter: humans need to leave the nature alone, and we need to save beached whales. Sometimes animals die. It's nature. If we're supposed to keep our filthy hands out of it, we need to do so altogether. We cannot pick and choose when we hurt or help the environment. Either we're in or we're out.

Third: save the animals. They're innocent, helpless, and precious. But it's woman's right to choose to abort her innocent, helpless, precious child, right? As far as I'm concerned, human life is immensely more important than that of a bird or a fish or a deer. The idea that a population of caribou needs extra protection from harmless oil lines and 42 million abortions are performed annually without nearly as much protest from activists makes me sick. It should make everyone sick.

I say drill the oil and outlaw abortion. According to the logic of environmentalists, that's what they should believe, too. I don't know why I'm ever surprised at the amount of insane hypocrisy that calls liberal mentalities home, but somehow it makes my jaw drop every time.