It seems that the only thing that NPR can talk about these days is the New Hampshire primary results, which results in a bad headache for me. All this does is rub in that my vote in Pennsylvania primaries might actually matter this time around and that I have to re-register.
Because PA can't have open primaries, oh no. No, they make us choose a party, guaranteeing another few years of propaganda and door-to-door visits from local candidates with that particular frozen perma-smile. I'm still getting slick campaign ads from the time I turned Republican for a primary, even though I was trying to make sure a candidate that I don't mind was going to get the nomination over a royal douchebag. The Santorum mail was unbelievable.
But it's not just that I have to pick a party-- I have to pick a candidate. My uterus is telling me to vote for Clinton, my heart for Obama, and my brain for McCain. It's unfortunate that to have my body parts take sides, especially since my crush John Edwards is trying to elbow in on Obama territory. Obama/Edwards-- what a delicious ticket that would be.
Sometimes it's hard to be more moderately inclined. Here I am, the pro-choice, anti-war, pro-gay marriage feminist liberal, awkwardly trying to balance my hawkish pro-Israel stance, plus the uneasy feeling about pulling out of Iraq too soon and leaving a vacuum of power. When I travel, I easily express my disappointment in the current government, but fly into a quiet and private rage when a non-American puts down my country too vigorously. All I want to do is to fit in somewhere-- and the proposed visions of American coming from the candidates don't seem to come complete with a Kate-shaped hole.
As much as I'm tired of hearing about the New Hampshire primaries, I am gratified to hear that McCain won the on the Republican side; his victory knocks Huckabee from the top-runner slot. If the GOP nominates Huckabee, then I will be forced to vote for whoever the Democrats put up, even if it's someone who I'm not particularly comfortable with. A salted slug for president would be better than an uber-religious politician.
The primaries would be so much easier if someone put out a version of the Star Wars Guide to the Candidates, which would be language I can understand. Oh, wait. Somebody has. The Ron Paul entry is particularly apt.
PS. Well, at least The Daily Show and The Colbert Report are back. Sort of.