This go around, I decided to take some time to watch some of the candidates out on YouTube – listening to them speak versus what the media is saying. So for the past couple weeks I’ve been pulling up the Democratic candidates and watching what they say, then comparing to the news coverage of the same event. Here’s my conclusion:
The media are sexist, racist assholes with a (mostly right-wing) political agenda.
More sexist than racist, but they are both. The spin they put on stuff is bizarre, and completely subjective, and it’s the media pushing some sort of agenda, rather than letting candidates speak for themselves.
Especially the longer footage earlier in the same event, where there’s some utter jackhole with a big yellow sign that says “Iron My Shirt!” and he’s chanting “Iron My Shirt!” over and over at her. In 2008, for fuck’s sake. Why the fuck isn’t that the big story all over the news, rather than her crying? Come the fuck on – that’s the story. We have people in this country who are actually not afraid to go to a public event and act this way – tell me sexism isn’t alive and well in America. That should be shocking to anyone and everyone who sees it, but I see it getting almost no coverage at all.
Then watch the “crying” – she never actually cries at all. At worst, she’s getting choked up because she loves America. She’s not “having a breakdown” or “Too tired to campaign” – I’m sorry, but aren’t there times when you also get choked up about our country, because despite its flaws, this is truly a great experiment we are in. Hell, I get emotional every time I hear the friggin’ National Anthem. Hillary is made of iron compared to me, and I can kick your butt to Toledo.
Do yourself a favor, and spend some time watching the candidates themselves, rather than the “interpretation” of the news. You’ll have a lot more faith in the system and the potential than you have in the past, I tell you.
During the recent visit to Martha’s Vineyard, Hillary Clinton sneaked off to visit a fortune teller of some local repute. In a dark and hazy room, peering into a crystal ball, the mystic delivered grave news.
"There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just be blunt: Prepare yourself to be a widow. Your husband will die a violent and horrible death this year."
Visibly shaken, Hillary stared at the woman’s lined face, then at the single flickering candle, then down at her hands.
She took a few deep breaths to compose herself. She simply had to know. She met the fortune teller’s gaze, steadied her voice, and asked her one question. "Will I be acquitted?"