by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist
As a proud American who is no longer shackled to the opinions of television news journalists, I occasionally find myself playing catchup on some of the trending political thought. This past week when I suddenly had access to cable news programming for several days, I encountered an emerging idea that I found interesting, particularly since it aligned with my own fears on the matter.
I like to think of the Democratic presidential field as a pool of little goldfish, each candidate sparkling and shining in their own particular ways as they try to be noticed. As they gain attention the golden fish swell in size, and eventually one will grow so large that he or she will be able to jump from that pool into the larger one where it will fight for dominance with Trump, the surly and arrogant blowfish.
Life in the pool was going along swimmingly until an old barracuda named Bernie decided that he wanted to splash in and stir things up a little. Four years earlier he had fought for dominance in the same pool and had damned near been successful. Now, as he swam among the alarmed goldfish, he was more determined than ever to become the boss of them.
And Bernie probably would have remained the terror of the goldfish pool if an old gray whale named Joe had not suddenly flopped in and created a monster wave that crashed down on the dreams and ambitions of the little goldfish, throwing them out of the pool or suffocating them under tons of centrist blubber. Fresh ideas, youth, vigor, and energy could all be damned, because it was Joe's turn to be king of the pool and to challenge Trump the Blowfish. Seniority mattered, damnit!
Last week while watching cable news and listening to the prognosticators repeat each other, it became apparent that not only is Joe Biden now the presumed nominee, Kamala Harris is his presumed running mate. Somewhere buttons and tee-shirts are already being emblazoned with "Biden-Harris 2020!"
It should be game-over, but . . .
The people attending the Demoratic caucuses and voting in the Democratic presidential primaries are Democrats, after all, a notorious group of free-thinkers, and they may want to have a say in the matter.
Being the Democratic nominee is not a right reserved to people who have managed to survive the cobwebs of time, it is a privilege given by the people. The party that nominated Jack Kennedy and Barack Obama may once again reach for a young beacon of hope to lead us into the future. If there ever was a time when the party needed a dynamic and youthful alternative to the ancient blowfish, this is it!
Fight on, Goldfish - because vigor, enthusiasm, and fresh ideas all matter!
Citizen Journalist
As a proud American who is no longer shackled to the opinions of television news journalists, I occasionally find myself playing catchup on some of the trending political thought. This past week when I suddenly had access to cable news programming for several days, I encountered an emerging idea that I found interesting, particularly since it aligned with my own fears on the matter.
I like to think of the Democratic presidential field as a pool of little goldfish, each candidate sparkling and shining in their own particular ways as they try to be noticed. As they gain attention the golden fish swell in size, and eventually one will grow so large that he or she will be able to jump from that pool into the larger one where it will fight for dominance with Trump, the surly and arrogant blowfish.
Life in the pool was going along swimmingly until an old barracuda named Bernie decided that he wanted to splash in and stir things up a little. Four years earlier he had fought for dominance in the same pool and had damned near been successful. Now, as he swam among the alarmed goldfish, he was more determined than ever to become the boss of them.
And Bernie probably would have remained the terror of the goldfish pool if an old gray whale named Joe had not suddenly flopped in and created a monster wave that crashed down on the dreams and ambitions of the little goldfish, throwing them out of the pool or suffocating them under tons of centrist blubber. Fresh ideas, youth, vigor, and energy could all be damned, because it was Joe's turn to be king of the pool and to challenge Trump the Blowfish. Seniority mattered, damnit!
Last week while watching cable news and listening to the prognosticators repeat each other, it became apparent that not only is Joe Biden now the presumed nominee, Kamala Harris is his presumed running mate. Somewhere buttons and tee-shirts are already being emblazoned with "Biden-Harris 2020!"
It should be game-over, but . . .
The people attending the Demoratic caucuses and voting in the Democratic presidential primaries are Democrats, after all, a notorious group of free-thinkers, and they may want to have a say in the matter.
Being the Democratic nominee is not a right reserved to people who have managed to survive the cobwebs of time, it is a privilege given by the people. The party that nominated Jack Kennedy and Barack Obama may once again reach for a young beacon of hope to lead us into the future. If there ever was a time when the party needed a dynamic and youthful alternative to the ancient blowfish, this is it!
Fight on, Goldfish - because vigor, enthusiasm, and fresh ideas all matter!
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