How are you feeling?
Mitt took care of all his kids
Oh, I’m sick. “Using specific examples . . . debunk this misperception . . . . ” This is not adult discourse. It’s an extended assignment for adolescents, a mock debate for Boys State.
By hiring nannies from the binder full of women.
How am I feeling? Sick at the sorry level of what passes for public debate. Not that it was any higher in any mythical olden days.
Somehow the two minutes thing just sets them up for a string of sound bites, avoiding the specifics.
Top of the seventh. Tigers still in the lead.
I live in a house with two Michiganders, so that’s good news.
Lost my voice yelling at the TeeVee again.
. . . an extended assignment for adolescents, a mock debate for Boys State . . .
I used to think that, and I guess it’s probably accurate for some youth debates, but after watching a middle school model UN a few years ago, I realized, no, our “adult” debates suck harder than your average prep school debate team. Only lame middle school debate teams are as awful as our presidential debates.
Pretty good middle school debate teams highlight their differences and argue with more facts, more verve, and more logic. Middle school debate teams do not score points for, say, randomly introducing their siblings/parents/relatives or claiming apriori knowledge of, oh, the future.
Here’s a random bit from the tonight’s debate: “There were hunting opportunities, for instance, that haven’t previously been available and so forth, so it was a mutually agreed- upon piece of legislation. That’s what we need more of, Candy. What we have right now in Washington is a place that’s gridlocked.” That’s the kind of thing you might hear from a completely unprepared middle school team that isn’t going to make it out of the first round of a tri-school debate competition.
I wish I liked baseball…
Well, you really can’t even call it debating, what the candidates have been doing.
And I say that realizing that last night’s format was not that of a formal debate at Oxford.
Still, the pure, druggy randomness of it all reminding me of conversations friends and I had during the Acid Era.
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