Wonder what Molly would say about Romney? Here's a clue!

Home again! Just in time for the election.

Well, actually, my election took place a couple of weeks ago. We voted before we left town for our trip to Big Bend National Park. A lot of people were voting that day. I think early voting is one of the best ideas to come along in a while in regard to our elections.

Big Bend was wonderful and more about that later, but one of the best things about it was that it sort of insulated us from the last two weeks of hysterical reporting on the campaigns which is the stock-in-trade of much of our national media. We had only limited links to the outside world and those were easy to ignore, especially when there was so much amazing beauty around us.

But re-linking myself to that outside world today, I came across a quote from Molly Ivins, possibly my all-time favorite Texan, outside of members of my family. The quote was from November 2003 and she was talking about her fellow Texan, George Bush, but, as I read it, I thought it could just as easily apply to one of the candidates in this year's presidential election.

What you end up with is a guy who sees himself as a perfectly nice fellow---and who is genuinely disconnected from the impact of his decisions on people. [...]

Okay, we cut taxes for the rich and so we have to cut services for the poor. Presumably there is some right-wing justification along the lines that helping poor people just makes them more dependent or something. If there were a rationale Bush could express, it would be one thing, but to watch him not see, not make the connection, is another thing entirely. Welfare, Medicare, Social Security, food stamps---horrors, they breed dependency. Whereas inheriting millions of dollars and having your whole life handed to you on a platter is good for the grit in your immortal soul? What we're dealing with here is a man in such serious denial it would be pathetic if it weren't damaging so many lives. (My emphasis.)

Bush's lies now fill volumes. He lied us into two hideously unfair tax cuts; he lied us into an unnecessary war with disastrous consequences; he lied us into the PATRIOT Act, eviscerating our freedoms. But when it comes to dealing with those less privileged, Bush's real problem is not deception, but self-deception.

The Republican campaign for the presidency this year has been based on such a web of lies, deception, and self-deception that it would put even that consummate liar George W. Bush to shame. This is where a once great political party that actually stood for something has come to in the year 2012.

Well, tomorrow it will all be over. At least we can hope that it will be. We can also hope that the recent polling across the nation proves to be correct and that President Obama will win a second term. For as much as I sometimes disagree with him and as much as he sometimes irritates me, there's one thing about him that I am absolutely sure of: He always does what he believes is the best for this country, even if it is not politically convenient or popular. He has a moral compass. We know where he stands on things and we know what he will try to accomplish as president. We know what he has already accomplished as president. Quite a lot actually.

As for the other guy. we don't know where he stands on anything or what he would do as president, but we strongly suspect that he would rip beyond repair the minimal social safety net that this country has and that his main concern would be to make himself and his fellow .0001 percenters even richer. Even from the grave Molly Ivins understands his kind.

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

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