The future is unwritten.

5 November, 2008

As you all know, I’ve never been able to fully jump on the Obama bandwagon. Even after he won, I was more… pleasant than ecstatic. Unfortunately my moment of zen was shattered when I logged on to Facebook and read the newly updated statuses from one partisan retard after another (on both sides).

We don’t know how effective Obama will be as President. He could be one of our best, he could be one of our worst, and he could even be one of those mediocre Presidents who nobody remembers (Unlikely given the race issue but you get the point.) All I know is that he’s my new President and I hope he does a good job. And you know what? I’d be forced to say the same if John McCain were elected President. The future is unwritten.

Incidentally, how about McCain’s concessions speech? I don’t quite see what’s so extraordinary about it; How did you expect him to react? Also, nobody is talking about the fact that — once again — he did nothing to get his rotten supporters to shut the hell up when he was trying to praise Obama. Compare that to Obama’s speech later that night when he called for McCain’s respect. Did you hear any jeers there? And that’s why McCain is not President-Elect. That and Naughty Librarian.

Which allows me to segue seemlessly into this Newsweek article that sheds a little light on the real Sarah Palin. This bit in particular doesn’t surprise me:

McCain himself rarely spoke to Palin during the campaign, and aides kept him in the dark about the details of her spending on clothes because they were sure he would be offended. Palin asked to speak along with McCain at his Arizona concession speech Tuesday night, but campaign strategist Steve Schmidt vetoed the request.

Poor McCain. As Abraham Lincoln said to John Wilkes Booth on The Whitest Kids U Know, “Now you fucked up! Now you fucked up!”

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2 Responses to “The future is unwritten.”

  1. Mr. Russell said

    Agreed. I’m using the post-election status updating as a means of doing a little Facebook pruning — i.e. deleting the, as you say, “retards” from my so-called friends. (It also makes me feel a little like god. Is that blasphemous? Oh well.)

  2. Mr. Russell said

    P.S. Happy Guy Fawkes Day, Noah.

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