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Rosanne Bostonian

Presidential Politics


Brace yourselves…Here come the Presidential candidates with their posturing, not-so-subtle character assassinations, and the endless ads that you and I are paying for. It’s like paying the electric bill before they strap you into the chair.

It’s true, we’re in the age of media with its endless droning of sales and persuasion. There are ads that are so repetitive that they haunt our consciousness. But there is nothing as irritating as political ads.

Politicians hire huge staffs (we’re paying for them, too) to dissect and crucify their opponents. We’re assaulted with waves of negativity and left wanting to move to North Korea where no decisions are required. Kim Jung-un recently had a cabinet member shot for falling asleep at a meeting. I’d be dead a hundred times at that rate.

What’s left when the election is over is a group of bloodied casualties. They crawl off the field of battle to be employed at the nearest law firm and lick their wounds for four years until the next go ‘round.

Short of Wall Street, there is no place where this parade of ego near-greats is as evident as in Washington, D.C. Heaven help us. The more we try to filter out the din, the more insistent and strident it becomes. It reminds me of the Publisher’s Clearing House Sweepstakes. (By the way, that is extended to the end of June, just in time to hand the baton to the full swing of Presidential politics.)

To whom do we entrust our precious country? Who is evolved enough to see through the layers of dreck to the good heart of our nation? Who has the courage and strength of character to unselfishly don the yoke of power? I guess we’ll wait and see. I dearly hope there is something positive to come out of the debates, some class and dignity.

We each have to put our oars in the water and row the Ship of State away from the rapids of small mindedness. I hope we have the patience and devotion to stay mindful, even feeling overwhelmed and discouraged by what we see. The Angels in Heaven are watching.

With love, Rosanne

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