Thursday, September 3, 2009

Where to start, where to begin.

I'm not even going to comment on the politics here. I'm just going to look at one statement.
Chris Stigall, a Kansas City talk show host, said, “I wouldn’t let my next-door neighbor talk to my kid alone; I’m sure as hell not letting Barack Obama talk to him alone.” (from NYT).
This is fucking sad. When I was 6(ish, 1993-Matty says "6 and a Half!") my next door neighbor took care of me for a few days when my mom was in the hospital giving birth to my baby sister (Incidentally, also in Kansas City). My first winter living alone, my next door neighbor loaned me and Mike a snow shovel because we were idiots and forgot to buy one. When I first moved in to my apartment, about a week after moving in, I dropped a glass and cut my foot kind of badly. My "next door" (across the hall, I guess, but closest to me), gave me a handfull of band-aids, even thought he didn't know me from Adam. What kind of sad, paranoid Hell is Chris Stigall living in where he distrusts his next door neighbor that much.*

Edit: We took class time out to watch John Glen's return to space when I was in grade school, we watched Colin Powell's speech to the UN in chemistry class sophomore year. I didn't get a damn thing done in health class because I was arguing about the Iraq war with my teacher (who referred to me as his "liberal buddy, Matt"). The idea of interrupting class for a big speech is nothing new.

*the freaking out because the POTUS wants to say "hey, let's not drop out of High School is a different issue.**
** I lied, sorry. I did talk about the politics.

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