why I hate politics
Nov. 4th, 2008 11:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
truepennyThe first presidential election I can remember is 1980: Reagan vs. Mondale. I was in first grade and not quite six. I don't know if my parents (life-long Democrats) explained it to me, or if we were doing something about it at school, or both, but I grasped the gist: Mondale was the good guy (his VP was a woman! in 1980!), Reagan was the bad guy. And on Election Day, the bad guy won.
[ETA: Alert readers have pointed out that the preceding paragraph conflates the 1980 election and the 1984 election. So the first election I remember is either 1980 (Reagan vs. Carter), when I was not quite six, or 1984 (Reagan vs. Mondale), when I was not quite ten. I honestly have no idea which mistake is the one I made, although the longer I think about it, the more I think I do remember the 1980 election. I just remember the 1984 election better. The sentiments in our household were much the same both times, and the point about my first impressions of American politics remains unscathed.]
Obviously, this is a child's understanding, and I'd like to be able to say that the twenty-eight years since then have given me a more sophisticated and nuanced understanding of American politics. Really, I would love to be able to say that. But I can't. The Republicans are the bad guys, and they win. Reagan. Reagan. Bush. I wasn't old enough to vote for Clinton in 1992, but I was ecstatic when he won. . . . And then watched as the Republican Party threw an eight-year temper tantrum, whining and yelling and obstructing and scandalmongering and essentially doing their best to make sure government could not happen because their guy wasn't king of the hill. The good guys sure as hell didn't win that one.
I voted for Gore in 2000. I sincerely believed that he was the best candidate we had. I even more sincerely believed that a formerly dead cat would have been a better candidate than Bush.
The bad guy won.
In 2004, I voted for Kerry, although it would be more accurate and honest to say I voted against Bush. (I am a yellow dog Democrat. I would vote for a yellow dog before I would vote for a Republican. In the last election, if I'd known a yellow dog, I would have voted for him as a write-in candidate.) Didn't matter. The bad guy won.
Over the twenty-eight years of my political awareness, I've watched the bad guys win. I've watched with sick, impotent fury as the Democrats--apparently both desperate and stupid--become more and more like the Republicans, until honestly I can't tell the good guys from the bad guys any more. They're all bad guys. And they always win. And the people down here, the ordinary citizens of America, don't even matter to them. They don't care what we want or what we think, because somehow our government has become so self-perpetuating and self-protecting that they don't have to.
I hate politics. I hate the smug self-righteousness of our politicians. I hate the things they say and the things they do. I hate the way the things that matter to me (education, peace, women's rights, minority rights, GLBT rights, ecological responsibility) don't matter to them. I hate the way that even things where it looks like the good guys have won--Roe vs. Wade, for instance, or that whole freedom of religion thing--the fight's never over until the Republicans say the fight is over. And they never say the fight is over until they've got the outcome they want. I hate the way that American politics over the past twenty years has completely fucked up not merely our relationship with the rest of the world (come on, guys, can we AT LEAST pay our United Nations dues?) but has contributed significantly to fucking up the planet as well. I hate the way men and women who have well-paying jobs with all the benefits they need get to decide that other people don't deserve health insurance. I hate the way that I can't tell the good guys from the bad guys, or--when I can--the way I know, with a sick, sick certainty, that the good guys will never win.
I voted today. If you've read this far, you know who I voted for. And I hope like hell that he wins. I hope that everything I know about politics, everything I've been taught by twenty-eight years of watching it happen, is wrong.
I can't believe. But I hope.
[ETA: Alert readers have pointed out that the preceding paragraph conflates the 1980 election and the 1984 election. So the first election I remember is either 1980 (Reagan vs. Carter), when I was not quite six, or 1984 (Reagan vs. Mondale), when I was not quite ten. I honestly have no idea which mistake is the one I made, although the longer I think about it, the more I think I do remember the 1980 election. I just remember the 1984 election better. The sentiments in our household were much the same both times, and the point about my first impressions of American politics remains unscathed.]
Obviously, this is a child's understanding, and I'd like to be able to say that the twenty-eight years since then have given me a more sophisticated and nuanced understanding of American politics. Really, I would love to be able to say that. But I can't. The Republicans are the bad guys, and they win. Reagan. Reagan. Bush. I wasn't old enough to vote for Clinton in 1992, but I was ecstatic when he won. . . . And then watched as the Republican Party threw an eight-year temper tantrum, whining and yelling and obstructing and scandalmongering and essentially doing their best to make sure government could not happen because their guy wasn't king of the hill. The good guys sure as hell didn't win that one.
I voted for Gore in 2000. I sincerely believed that he was the best candidate we had. I even more sincerely believed that a formerly dead cat would have been a better candidate than Bush.
The bad guy won.
In 2004, I voted for Kerry, although it would be more accurate and honest to say I voted against Bush. (I am a yellow dog Democrat. I would vote for a yellow dog before I would vote for a Republican. In the last election, if I'd known a yellow dog, I would have voted for him as a write-in candidate.) Didn't matter. The bad guy won.
Over the twenty-eight years of my political awareness, I've watched the bad guys win. I've watched with sick, impotent fury as the Democrats--apparently both desperate and stupid--become more and more like the Republicans, until honestly I can't tell the good guys from the bad guys any more. They're all bad guys. And they always win. And the people down here, the ordinary citizens of America, don't even matter to them. They don't care what we want or what we think, because somehow our government has become so self-perpetuating and self-protecting that they don't have to.
I hate politics. I hate the smug self-righteousness of our politicians. I hate the things they say and the things they do. I hate the way the things that matter to me (education, peace, women's rights, minority rights, GLBT rights, ecological responsibility) don't matter to them. I hate the way that even things where it looks like the good guys have won--Roe vs. Wade, for instance, or that whole freedom of religion thing--the fight's never over until the Republicans say the fight is over. And they never say the fight is over until they've got the outcome they want. I hate the way that American politics over the past twenty years has completely fucked up not merely our relationship with the rest of the world (come on, guys, can we AT LEAST pay our United Nations dues?) but has contributed significantly to fucking up the planet as well. I hate the way men and women who have well-paying jobs with all the benefits they need get to decide that other people don't deserve health insurance. I hate the way that I can't tell the good guys from the bad guys, or--when I can--the way I know, with a sick, sick certainty, that the good guys will never win.
I voted today. If you've read this far, you know who I voted for. And I hope like hell that he wins. I hope that everything I know about politics, everything I've been taught by twenty-eight years of watching it happen, is wrong.
I can't believe. But I hope.
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no subject
Date: 2008-11-04 06:34 pm (UTC)I only vaguely remember the 1984 election - I wanted my mother to vote for Reagan because I'd at least *heard* of him, and I'd never heard of that other guy (hey, I was 5). At the time I didn't even know what Democrat and Republican meant, but it was the last time I had complimentary thoughts about pretty much any Republican. By the 1988 election I was the only person in my 4th grade class (Missouri) who voted for Dukakis in our mock-election and that has sent the tone for the rest of my life. I was too young to vote in the 1992 or 1996 elections, and by 2000 I was living in the South, so I have never felt my vote was anything more than pissing in the wind.
All my life I have seen nothing but America backsliding further and further from what I was taught that America should be. My mother was in grade school during the Civil Rights movement, and while the very fact a struggle was necessary is an embarrassment in the supposed Land of the Free, at least she can look back and say we *won* that one. Or so it seemed. My own formative years have been punctuated by loss after crushing loss and a general return to the 'Good Old Days' of prejudice, fear-mongering, and theocratic sentiment.
Take all the amendments to state constitutions 'defining' marriage as between a man and a woman. Although both the states I have voted in have them, I can at least say I was not living in either state when the vote was passed (Louisiana passed theirs in 2004, the year before I moved here, and South Carolina, where I used to live, passed theirs in 2006, the year after I moved away). Every time the issue comes up, the idealistic child in me gapes in disbelief that so many states could choose to *write into their constitutions* a provision that has *no purpose* other than to deny a portion of the population their *basic rights*. Each time I have stared at the news in shock, the mantra in my head "This can't happen. Not in *America*". And nearly each time I am proven horrifically wrong. Whatever happened to "We find these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal"? I guess that only applies if you're white, male, straight, and a Christian. Well, shucks, I'm 1 out of 4 so I guess I only get a quarter of my rights, huh?
Wow -- this was meant to be a comment and look, it turned into a treatise. I'll have to cross-post this on my own journal :) Anyway, thanks for the inspirational (in a cynical sort of way) post.