I only slept four hours last night. Since March 15th, I've only left the house twice.
I can't keep this up.
Yesterday, I read over what I'd written on Tuesday, and I wrote a few new sentences.
I watched Facebook "friends" "unfriend" me because I've finally had enough of not saying what I think about Sanders and his cult of personality for fear of...well...pretty much what's happening because I've finally started saying what I think about Sanders and his cult of personality.
No, he can't win the nomination. This is not a question of opinion. It's pretty much a mathematical certainty. At this point, he poses almost no genuine threat to the party he's high-jacked. But it galls me all the same. No, I'm not a far-left liberal. I'm not interested in a revolution. I'm a slightly left of center liberal interested in fixing the system we have and preserving and expanding upon the progress we've made, not casting it all aside for the pipe dreams of socialists and democratic socialists. I've lived under five Republican presidents, and I know what we stand to lose if we to fail to send a candidate to the election who has a chance of beating the Republicans.
I do not back the lesser of two evils. I did not back Walter Mondale in 1984 and Michael Dukakis in 1988, Bill Clinton in 1992 (and 1996) and Al Gore in 2000, John Kerry in 2004 and Barack Obama in 2008 (and 2012) because I vote the lesser of two evils. I supported those candidates because I believe in the Democratic Party and the principles and values it represents and recognize and cherish the advances it has fostered. And it makes me ill watching Sanders' disingenuous, opportunistic attempt to use it as a stepping stone to the presidency. Sanders and his supporters are cynically employing the Democratic Party the way that a cuckoo employs the nests of other species of birds, the same way that Trump is using the Republican Party. This is the Year of the American Cuckoo.
And I'm tired of watching and being silent.
If you want to stop following me, fine. If you want to get rid of all my books because I'm not "feelin' the Bern," then that's what you have to do. But please do not attempt to use the comments section of this journal (or my Facebook) to convince me how wrong I am. You make your mistakes, and I'll make mine.
Yeah, I could have kept my mouth shut and saved myself the bother. But I've been doing that too long.