Romney surged after the debates, mainly the first, as the straw-man conceptualisation of angry, troubled, frightened, uncivil liberals and their millions of hapless media consumers met the reality of an intelligent and articulate man who still dared to contradict liberal orthodoxy.
But debates over, the left resorted again to its unreal slander, and some in the middle returned to their confusion.
By far, the most common complaint I’ve ever heard about Romney is, “I just don’t trust him”, as if such a visceral, prejudiced ejaculation is a valid substitute for a logical objection. Why don’t those people “trust” him? Simply because their partisanship, provinciality, and racism prevent it. They don’t like people different from them.
The second most common complaint is, “He’s rich” — maybe the most hypocritical accusation possible, since every poor person who begrudges a rich person secretly longs for the same wealth they decry. Those whose hearts aren’t set on money don’t judge other people based on their financial situation.
Third is that he’s too moderate — in other words, he’s tried to make common cause with those of diverse ideologies, and thus escapes easy categorisation by those bent on condemning their leaders for their own failings.
Oh well. This campaign draws swiftly to its close.
I politicised a bit with vocal Shane today, and was happy to find he wasn’t quite the unhinged liberal Democrat I’d taken him for (he rather seemed to lean Green Party, as well as betraying a bit of Libertarianism and even a shred of the responsible Republicanism he blames all the world’s evil upon). It was good to see him entertain a few more serious thoughts about the realities of life that drive so many older and wiser people into various degrees of conservatism. He has a good heart, I can admit. We’re not so diametrical.
Later on, I accompanied Shane and Shanna by bicycle up to our voting location, my old primary school. I’d already voted by mail, but it was nice to go there anyway. I talked with one of the workers, Sjanie (as we would say “Shawnee”) Olds, born Leeflang, from the 9th ward, and saw a couple other 9th-warders. Berje Bezdjian (?) came and, informed of his daughter’s first-time vote just before, commented that now he probably had to negate most of what she’d done.
I left there, came home, and posted on Facebook:
“Voting is an act of worship. When we inform ourselves and faithfully choose our leaders, we reach up and join hands with the God who directs and judges the nations by his own hidden counsel — who both prompts our wise choice, and takes our collective vote, good with bad, as a tool to perform his greater work. Who has not cast his ballot or exited the polls without feeling sanctified and humbled by it, tied to his community by a renewed sense of duty and fraternity? We should fight valiantly for the truth and endeavour to vote correctly, but none of us can see all ends. As fallible men, we will always make mistakes. Voting affects us at least as much as it does our society, and the greater sin is not to vote wrongly, but to not vote at all.”
I’ve not perfectly informed myself, it’s true, but I have to my satisfaction for those contests that I thought warranted attention.
As I tried to impress to my brother, no matter whom, or whose disliked authority, we want to blame for our problems or the world’s problems, we still have the opportunity to pursue our own happiness in life. Our future still belongs entirely to us.