It doesn't look as if much is going to happen until Saturday, June 4, when the Virgin Islanders hold their caucus, which I guess is okay with me, even if not with the supporters and opponents of Messalina Agrippina chomping at the bit.
One notices that Methuselah's dedicating all his efforts to California, all the while ignoring New Jersey.....which is eerily similar with the way Alphonse Capote Gore paid attention to Florida but ignored his home state of Tennessee during the presidential election of 2000.
If ol' Al had paid attention to his native state, he might've won.
Methuselah grew up right across the river from New Jersey; New Jersey's practically his second home state. And oddly, he's lagging there, far behind an opponent who's about as New Jerseyan as she is Manitoban or Singaporean. New Jersey should be in the old sourassed sourpuss's pocket, but it's not, and so probably he should be paying more attention to that state, than to one that's so far away it might as well be on the moon.
Or, as ol' Al found out sixteen years ago, it's humiliating to lose on one's home terrain.....and to an outsider at that. First, Methuselah lost New York, and now he's going to lose New Jersey.
Which should be a loud and clear message to voters everywhere; if a guy isn't well-liked by his own neighbors, probably there's something wrong with him.
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Why it's okay with franksolich--for purely selfish reasons, of course--that there's probably not going to be any excitement the next two days is that, wearily, I must trek again to points distant to get treated for a couple of serious ailments.
I'm slowly reaching that point where I'm spending more hours per week being medically treated, than I am spending in productive work. I haven't reached that point yet, but I'm inexorably getting there, at which point I'll have to decide upon something important. Is living worth it, if one parasites more than one produces, one expends more than what one contributes?
I'm far away from
having to make any decisions, but the question looms in front of me, like a faraway cloud on the horizon a couple of hundred miles away (yes, we can see that far out here in the Sandhills of Nebraska, on a clear day).