By Chalan Moon
It isn’t difficult for an individual with moderate faculties to describe the weather. A myriad of adjectives lay at our disposal to describe our stratospheric happenings. Almost with vivid clarity, we can close our eyes and imagine the colorless or articulate paint recreating the world inside. So why is it so difficult to describe the political climate? It’s not much different.
Depending on where you live, the weather of former presidents is quite
describable. Those having lived through the Clinton era on the West
Coast might describe the political weather as having been sunny, for
the most part, interrupted only by light showers. The Midwest most
likely thought of it as a constant downpour, regardless of robust
economic growth, record low unemployment rates, and unprecedented peace
meetings. Undoubtedly, according to polls, President Bush is a
volatile, albeit imbecilic storm. Hurricane Katrina was more than just
the severe mishandlings of the Bush Administration, but also an
outrageously felt metaphor for said administration: disastrous,
incomprehensible, and leaving damage that will take years to repair.
The American people are juxtaposed faced with a choice between Senator
Obama, an inspirational orator with words like a morning fog, and
Senator McCain, a stifling and humid windstorm. A morning fog is
pleasant in its calm stillness, but unsettles the nerves with opacity.
With fog, one can never be sure if what will follow will be a glorious
sunny day or bleak darkness. Dangers in harbored by fog are constant in
their mysteriousness. A humid windstorm is predictably unbearable and
misleading in its direction. It is triggered by perpetual fronts of hot
air, hot air that promulgates lies so outrageous and “enhanced truths”
so unfathomable, people sweat the possibility of its continuation for a
potential eight years.
Senator Obama once inspired me. He opined from the heart and
unwaveringly delivered to the people unabashed foresight and a
reassurance that politicians still listen. However, he later proved
that he was, in fact, a politician: He changed his policy on offshore
drilling and has yet to deliver a rebuttal to outlandish McCain ads
with the same former fervor. Some say that he is merely playing the
game, but who says he has to? He can be the first in decades to define
it! If he wants to be the harbinger of change, then he must live it
without doubt and refuse to kowtow to those who fear it.
John McCain once inspired me as well. I was awestruck by the
combination of his status as a former P.O.W. and his candidly pleasant
demeanor. I enjoyed how he verbally stood against the G.O.P. on several
issues, including stem cell research, torture, and offshore drilling.
Most of that has changed, camouflaging him deeper into the party; he no
longer is demanding the cessation of Guantanamo Bay and extraordinary
renditions, and he hails offshore drilling as every families’ economic
salvation. And why wouldn’t he? He could accurately describe to you the
color of the pocket lint of monstrous oil conglomerates. It only takes
a brisk walk through the streets of Puerto Vallarta to push you into an
air conditioned building with a soft seat and a cold drink, and I find
listening to Senator McCain and Governor Palin the same: exhausting.
The question remains: What will the weather be like? That depends.
Which do you prefer? Personally, I want another choice. I want the
two-party system to offer more than just rain or sun, humidity or
dryness, heat or chill. I want snow, where each flake is unique and I
can choose between more than just two disagreeable iconic figures.
Until then, I am forced to endure uncertainty and lethargy. In doing
so, I must chose uncertainty, for I’d rather not know my suffering than
willingly subject myself to it.