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After voting for Obama in the Texas primary, caucusing for him that evening and going as a delegate to the district convention, it hit me. I’m not a Democrat. Maybe it was the to-whom-it-may concern invocation delivered by the bisexual Democrat congressman who had recently been brought up on public lewdness charges. Maybe it was the male Hillary supporter with the blue eyeshadow, French-tipped nails and beehive hairdo. Or maybe it was just the ad nauseum parade of politicians who kept saying, “After all, we’re all Democrats.” But whatever it was, I had the crashing realization that I was not a part of that tribe. Maybe I am a disenchanted Republican. Or maybe I’m a starry-eyed Obamacan. Or maybe I am a neo-con hating, peace-loving isolationist paleo-con who just happens to want a government-subsidized healthcare system. Or maybe––and this is an admission that positively gives me chills––just maybe, I am an independent. Independent! How wishy-washy is that!



  1. Admitance is the first step to recovery they say. Good luck with that. Republicans take all kinds as well.

    DB Reese

  2. Independent is not wishy-washy. My dad was an independent precisely because he had strong opinions that he didn’t want prejudged by party affiliations. I am a Democrat, but I love guys in blue eye-shadow. Sometimes I feel like I am strong Democrat, like when Al Gore ran, and other times I feel like I am not Republican. America’s this odd place where the two party system reigns and we don’t seem to be able to get past it. Perhaps if we had proportional representation we could, but that is a little scary since it can give rise power to oddball coalition makers.

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