1.) First of all, he’s adorable and folksy. Look, I know it’s a front, as much as McCain’s “my friends” crap and Obama’s handsome, intelligent perfect wonderfulness are also–let’s admit it, liberals–manufactured. There will be an Obama sex scandal, because he’s better-looking than JFK AND Clinton and powerful men always have sex scandals. It’s just part of being a powerful dude, unless you’re Jimmy Carter. Michelle is super gorgeous, but so was Jackie O., and empirical evidence suggests that men don’t give a fig how hot their wife is if they’re yearning to bang another chick.
2.) Anyway, back to Huckabee. That last name is fabulous, even ignoring the movie that everybody piled on top of and jerked off on while also spouting from the mouth about how “groundbreaking” and “challenging” and “quirky” and “brilliant” it was. (Confession: I haven’t seen it, precisely because I grew nauseated by hearing over and over how amaaaaazing it was. Also, I saw a clip in which Jason
Schwartzman has sex with someone, which is always problematic for me to consider. And I feel like the director is a misogynist prick, and it shows in his films and in his interviews, so fuck that guy. Or don’t.)
3.) He owns his right-wingery. I love people who own whatever their particular brand of bullshit is. Mike Huckabee has never pretended to be anything other than a formerly fat, right-wing Christian who thinks geighz are sinners and abortion is murder. He owns that shit! And thank God he’s allowed to say what he says and I’m allowed to say what I say and you’re allowed to say what you say and that’s the beauty of the First Amendment. I don’t agree with most things he says (except the geighz being sinners because, c’mon, THEY SO ARE) but I will absolutely defend his right to say them.
4.) I was in the TRL studio for the MTV News MySpace presidential forum prior to Super Tuesday, where Clinton, Obama, Huckabee, and Ron Paul beamed themselves in via satellite to talk to the kids (P.S. Everyone in the room lost their shit when it was Obama’s turn, and he wasn’t even in the fucking ROOM. But he was talking to us and we could not handle it.) And Huckabee was just winsome and delightful and I had a slight crush on him for about 48 hours. I would eat BBQ with him and play badminton with his 18 identical hulking sons
5.) Also? He’s FUNNY! Like, for reals. This motherfucker is funny. He pokes fun at himself and he’s probably a delightful toast-giver at the weddings of his 18 identical hulking sons. Are any of those gents married yet? I might just need to catch me one of them!
6.) This blog post about how Republicans who spread racist lies about Obama totally suck. He’s completely upfront about not agreeing with Obama about hardly a damned thing, and he gives special time to the abortion ish, because that’s Huckabee’s thing. But he doesn’t say the guy is evil or a demon. In fact, he employs very sensible rhetoric, writing, “What I am saying is that we need to challenge Obama on the basis that his ideas are the wrong ones—not attacking him personally. If people spend their time repeating a bunch of internet driven drivel about his middle name (he didn’t choose his anymore than I chose mine), or his race (I do sincerely celebrate that our country has moved to a place where a person’s race doesn’t limit him from aspiring to the highest office in our land, but I just believe that due to his proposals and lack of substantive experience, he’s gone far enough—not because of his race, but because of his sincere, but misguided proposals), or his church (there are far more important reasons for us to elect Senator McCain than where Obama went to church). … I think he is a sincere and obviously a very intelligent and charismatic person. For us to deny that is foolish.”
Huckabee = class act, at least in terms of the speech he’s employing on the Obama ish.
I will conclude by admitting something I admitted on stage last night for the first time: “I kind of love Republicans. And not in an ironic, ‘Ooh, I’m mocking them because they’re different from me, they’re so stuuuuuupid, how could they have those CRAZY views?’ kind of way.” Like I actually often enjoy them, as people. Because they are people. And most of this country is conservative (relative to NYC and Asheville, NC, which I suppose isn’t hard) and there are a lot of Republicans to chat with.
My best friend from childhood is a Republican Midwestern housewife. At times, her dad has been like a wacky Republican uncle to me [although this year he turned into an Obamacan! Holy shit! I freaked out when he told me]. My dad is a Republican, and we’ve agreed about very little with regard to politics (note: unlike Huckabee, he’s a social moderate and fiscal conservative). But he’s still a solid good dude. One of my fellow Street Teamers is a Republican, and he’s a delightful and endearing gent with whom I will be hanging out relatively soon when he emerges from the “don’t take my guns or my land!” New England state in which he dwells.
Also, Condi has excellent taste in clothes. She is my favorite closeted lesbian, and I salute her piano-playing skills and muff-diving secret life of shame.
And look, Coulter’s a hilarious loon with a fondness for nasty rhetoric because it fulfills her need for attention and makes her money. She’s also a fag hag, which is the most confusing part of all. My boyfriend hates her so deeply that he can’t even discuss her without getting visibly enraged. Okay, that’s fine. I’m not gonna go toe-to-toe with anyone on a woman with whom I never agree but who I find entertaining (dude, she was a FUCKING DEADHEAD! Amazing! And she likes Kanye. I think they have similar ego situations happening.)
I relish political debate, whether it’s playful or actually heated. I prefer the playful kind, nurtured as I was in a home where my father and grandfather often squared off at the dinner table. I’m one of the rare breed with a grandfather more liberal and open-minded than my father, his son. Some of my warmest memories are of laying on the floor in the family room, listening to my father and grandfather watch Crossfire and fight.
Do I get pissed at anti-geighz? Yes, but I’m talking about the Reverend Fred Phelps type douchebags, not people who think it’s weird and kind of gross when two men have sex and live together. The first group is hateful; the latter group is ignorant and comprised mainly of people who haven’t met very many gay folks (and possibly haven’t met any, ever!) That latter group also counts among its members many very kind, loving people. And while they may parrot what they’ve heard in church, but newsflash: going to church regularly, particularly as a child and adolescent, is akin to sticking your head in a propaganda machine and flipping the switch to “ON.” Trust me, I’ve been through the wringer with that one.
Are people going to give up religion, which is often the biggest social and even economic force in town? No. Might they be persuaded to soften their views, even to come around to fully accepting people they formerly regarded as sinners? Yes, of course.
The exception to the above is the abortion issue. If you firmly believe that life begins the moment a man throws it in some lady and spurts, you are not going to be dissuaded from that viewpoint. I’m proud to work for a pro-choice organization, but wise enough to recognize that my duty is to educate the public and protect a woman’s right to birth control access and abortion–NOT to convince people to change their fundamental (ha!) belief systems.
And I’ve been there with the anti-abortion/anti-choice people. Literally. I used to be one myself, back before I got a taste of reality in the form of my friends growing up and facing tough choices on pregnancy; long before I taught high school and saw the price children pay for mistakes; and certainly long before I worked with poor rural immigrant women at an outreach clinic and saw the strain that yet another child put on their ability to ably mother the children they already had. I look at my transition from so-called “pro-life” to pro-choice as an exercise in maturation, in growing up, and, ultimately, in growing smarter, stronger, and more compassionate.
And that, dear readers (or un-dear lurkers) is the extent of my sick words. No, I mean literally sick: I’m at home sick and bored as all get-out, but also achey, exhausted, and throat sore-ified.
Have a great weekend.
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