(Blood drained from his knuckles now bleach white in the darkness.) Vice President of what? The closet? Surely the President of the closet would at least have the power to unlock it.
Hello? Is someone in there?
No! Damn it. Just be quiet, he’ll go away. Maybe I should pretend to have a girl in here. No, I can’t fake that level of satisfaction. (Audible snickering)
Mr. Vice President …
If you open that door, I will have you excommunicated.
Mr. Vice President, I don’t think that’s a power your office possesses.
Power my office possesses. What power? I once denied Bork a seat on the Supreme Court. I once crafted and lifted the Violence Against Women Act into being. I once drove an ’87 Camaro. What kind of power do I have now? My office. The only thing my office has is a physical office, which apparently lacks a bathroom.
Mr. Vice President, I’ll be back with the secret service.
With Ted, he won’t talk to anyone about it.
Oh great, that bastard Ted who gave me the codename Bald Eagle. Ok, collect yourself Joe. There’s nothing wrong with being old, bald, and majestic like our national symbol. People like that. But in a President, no, they want Jack Kennedy without a coat in 20-degree weather, Teddy Roosevelt assaulting them with half-bitten words, and FDR wrapping steel around his legs so he can lift his country out of depression. They don’t want this old bird in the oval. But then what do I do? I have all this work left in me. How did I get trapped like this?
A lot has changed since Mike Huckabee last ran for President eight years ago, and so has the Republican Party. Huckabee has adapted along with the GOP from the compassionate conservatism of the Bush era to the fits and spasms of anti-Obamaism that has taken the place of explicit policy positions. If Huckabee stands a chance to win Iowa as he did in 2008, he will have to synthesize an argument that has room for government control on social issues and a libertarian outlook on others. This new conservatism à la carte is a two-step most GOP hopefuls will be forced into, but Huckabee will have the added task of having to debate his former self. .
by R. Armstrong
If you do in fact conquer, remember to change the sails.
The black-sailed ship harbors in grief, victory’s future.
(Again we are taught your lesson, the lesson of the false symbol, the hasty
escape, the poor plan, the trouble with decisions based on fixed meanings.
Oh grief, dear father, dear cliff, my kingdom.)
“Advices from History” by R. Armstrong, from Having Asked to Make Manifest Was Made Only Words. Copyright © 2012 R. Armstrong. All rights reserved. Reprinted with permission.
What’s left of the battered politician inside Mitt Romney shook suddenly and unpredictably into action this past weekend and upended the fledgling field of GOP Presidential hopefuls. Mitt Romney, in a meeting with his former donors, stated that he is considering another run for the Presidency. Monday morning brought the aftershock as Romney began working the phones, rounding up former staff and supporters, making it clear he is leaning towards entering the campaign. The following questions stream through one’s mind at such news: Is he serious? Has he lost it? Does he just like torturing his family? Is he just trying to get me to watch his Netflix documentary again? Is he still anti-moonbase? Is he that guy that asks you to the prom three times until his mother talks to your mother, who think’s he’s “a fine boy”, and then he makes you take pictures with his whole family in front of their fireplace and his grandmother sighs watery-eyed when he puts on your corsage, which you explicitly said you didn’t want to begin with? .
Darkness. Musty darkness. The touch of wool or polyester. Does it really matter at this point?
Just moments ago the closet beckoned. It promised an odd opportunity to see what life might be like beyond starched whites and silken four-in-hands. As a young man I had a choice. I could have chosen a party that guarded a mass of material wealth with a tyrannical hierarchy. But no, no, I chose the path of social responsibility and community living. I believed in redemption. Now closed in this dark mire of suffocating egalitarianism I wonder if there ever was a choice. Which way is Narnia? Damn, too many walls.