Art Pottery, Politics and Food
Monday, August 16, 2004
 

Here in the heart of southwestern Ohio, southeastern Indiana and northern Kentucky, the once rolling Redlands of Bush country are blushing a purplish Kerry-ish blue.
This development will, no doubt, keep the local FBI busy peeping into various Cincinnati metropolitan area coffee shops and inner city charities as the worn elbows of investigator’s blue jackets continue to fray in defense of some twisted vision of a comic book America.
Reminded of an amusing family story involving a former radical step relative’s declassified FBI files, I’m thankful normal day to day local protection falls upon our more sincere but less political, under funded and under equipped local forces here in Kentucky’s northern counties of Kenton, Campbell and Boone.
In the roaring 60’s, overly exuberant federal agents described this suspected cousin, a large brilliant man of Irish descent, as an even larger gentleman of African descent.
Oopsie, Jedger!
Laugh or cry, people?
I’m waiting.
Maybe eyes accustomed to large hairy men wearing silly pink frocks view our world from a more imprecise and less colorful perspective.
Or, at least I guess, I’m imagining they do?
I’m grateful, this morning, that our left-leaning-Kerry-bumper-sticker-sporting Honda will be nowhere near the down home stylings of the Bush bubble as it descends upon the VFW convention in downtown Cincinnati.
My normally taciturn disposition frowns at the idea of a cuffed recline upon the hot asphalt around 5th and Race Streets no matter how adorable President Bush looks in blue jeans and rolled shirtsleeves.
If I’m going to be cuffed I’m afraid I have to insist upon glittering Gestapo-esque accoutrements.
As Broder, run through a sanitary Josh Marshall filter, suggests, the fishy smell of the President’s freshly laundered plaids are becoming an uncomfortable new story line for the defensive bobble heads of punditry.
Blind mewing at the half decade old concept of an even split fails to adjust for the still lingering post 911 idea of presenting a sense of presidential support to a jaundiced global community.
Barring the arrival of a perfect world in the next few months and Election Day, Bush support, fractured and groaning like an icy movie glacier, will remain miles wide and fractions of an inch deep no matter the droning televised cheerleading.
Look for lots and lots of Laura and chilling conditioned reflex convention speeches by the very unHeinz-Kerry-esque and Vaseline-toothed Bush twins.

Modified image: Reuters



Sunday, August 15, 2004
 
Pink Dahlia



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