Hello, Failure

Of all the enemies of literature, success is the most insidious

Wednesday, February 11, 2004

Failure of the Day: Politics

I’m seriously enjoying the primary season so far. John Kerry is 100% O.K. as far as I’m concerned, even if he does look like the bastard son of old Joe Kennedy and a basset hound. And anyway, he had me at the nicely timed f-word in Rolling Stone. But I’m easy, I know. I’m a democratic candidate slut. I put out for them, I do. I would have given it away to any one of them, even god-forbid-Joe-Lieberman.

I like Kerry’s wife too, even though she sometimes seems so other worldly ethereal I want to poke my finger in her chest to see if she’s, like, solid matter. I can even look beyond the fact that she’s a gazillionaire because of my archenemies, condiments. Hell, I can even look beyond the fact that she’s a gazillionaire. I like how she still calls her dead first husband “my husband,” and I like how he shut up about the whole W was AWOL thing and just calmly stood there surrounded by the guys whose lives he saved on the battlefield.

Of course, the fact of the matter is that I can look past one whole hell of a lot these days; I am what you might call goal oriented. Still though, I think if you have to be old and rich and full of that weird patriotic fervor that I swear if I live to be 100 I will never understand, they kind of seem like an OK way to be that.

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