More Politics

New Hamphire has spoken, and in the interests of fairness, a poem for Obama:

by Edna St Vincent Millay

Thursday

And If I loved you Wednesday,
Well, what is that to you?
I do not love you Thursday—
So much is true.

And why you come complaining
Is more than I can see.
I loved you Wednesday,--yes-- but what
Is that to me?

Politics

I love the political process. It would be a better game than football if there wasn't so much at stake. Poor Hilary. The media had crowned her invincible and inevitable, but now that Iowa has spoken, they are writing her off as finished. Neither bit of hype is true. And what about Huckabee? As someone said on TV this morning, all the Republican pundits in the the country are looking around saying "What the Huck happened?" Huckabee is pretty much an idiot in my book. His views on taxation alone are enough to show he doesn't know what he's doing. I've had enough prayer in the White House. Let's elect someone who is competent.

Any of the Democrats would do.

And now, a poem for Hilary:

by Edna St. Vincent Millay

I shall forget you presently, my dear,
So make the most of this, your little day.
You little month, your little half a year,
Ere I forget, or die, or move away,
And we are done forever; by and by
I shall forget you, as I said, but now,
If you entreat me with your loveliest lie
I will protest you with my favorite vow.
I would indeed that love were longer-lived,
And vows were not so brittle as they are,
But so it is, and nature has contrived
To struggle on without a break thus far,
Whether or not we find what we are seeking
Is idle, biologically speaking.