What with all the election and the conventions coverage, everyone is talking politics these days. I don’t really enjoy such discussions because they aren’t actually discussions. People either agree or battle. No one actually exchanges any ideas, so it’s pointless to “debate.” Plus there is no longer any level of civility, so it’s unpleasant as well as pointless.
I will not confess how many people on both sides assume I am of their “right thinking” philosophies (no matter how actually vile). I have severe problems with both candidates, but more problem with people I know spouting idiotic allegiances without reason beyond their own prejudices. I hate it when I have to give up my good opinion of someone over their political utterances and the volume and impolite manner in which they demand you agree with them.
Nathe absolutely adores political debate, the nastier the better. He lives to goad people into arguing with him, often (he has admitted) espousing views he does not actually hold in order to egg his debate victim on. Nathe loves to argue the most outrageous points for the joy of angering another.
Nathe forgot I am the only sibling who still talks to him and turned his jagged wits upon me
until I finally got fed up and told him what I really felt
- not about the (non-presidential candidate) politician he was lionizing,
but about him and his method of debate to destroy your conversational partner.
We have not spoken since May. It’s actually been rather pleasant.
Living alone, I had thought to have peace in my own home.
How silly of me.
Due to the fact that the cats always seem to be around as I surf the net to catch the news, there are three new opinions to add to the mayhem.
Esme believes, for heaven knows what reason, that she will be invited to speak at the democratic convention. She’s been working on her speech between naps for a week now. She says she wants to speak from the heart, share her core values, tell the world what moves her.
She’s shown me her semi-final draft -
“One fish is good.
Two fish is better.
Red fish is something.
Blue fish is something else.”
What could I say?
Well, I told her that I like its unconventional brevity and that I could see her absolute sincerity in every syllable. She seemed quite pleased with the critique, especially the word “syllable” which she thinks is French. I am hoping that on her next impromptu mission to attack and destroy random items around the house she accidentally shreds the poem. Without the physical reminder, odds are very high she’ll forget about the speech delusion entirely.
Coco is a firm supporter of Hillary Clinton.
I couldn’t help myself. I had to ask her why.
Coco thinks the “American Election Show” is filmed and brought to the Internet by Amazon Prime the same way Downton Abbey is.
She thinks it would be a great plot development to have the show explore the election of a lady president since that’s kind of been political science fiction up until now. Besides, women are much more sympathetic to feline issues and so all cats should back the female candidate.
Lucy begs to differ. With an enigmatic smile, she says supports Trump.
No matter how I press her, she refuses to say why.
I feel a little bit guilty about it, but Curiosity finally got the better of me
and I took a quick look in her diary.
It seems my green-eyed cutie has a secret thing for orange tabbies with tiny paws.
Who knew?
Thank heavens they’re all too young to vote!
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