Brad DeLong at his finest. Proof positive that the talent’s out there:
I took my completed mail-in ballot to the drop-off bin this morning. So stop robo-calling me already.
In this crazy season just prior to the U.S. elections, I’ve found myself strangely unable to pay adequate attention to my own business. There are just too many people around me who’ve given themselves over to the din and the compulsion, and want me to join them in their last ditch defense against the unthinkable. I can’t do it, not least because I’ve long been convinced that the unthinkable is already upon us. We’re going to have to live with it at one level or another for as far as most of us can see into the future. That will take some doing, at least for those who will live through more of it than I’ll have to.
Still, it may be a good idea, in my current rattled state, which seems to recur every two years at about this time, to take stock of where in the landscape of our current discontents I find what Christians call the Rock Of My Salvation. Then, with any luck, I’ll be able to get back to business again:
1. Immanence rather than transcendence
2. Heraclitus rather than Aristotle
3. The Tao rather than filial piety
4. Blake rather than Newton
5. Marx rather than Keynes
6. A decent respect to the opinions of mankind rather than full-spectrum dominance
7. Mens sana in corpore sano above all (although I freely admit that this doesn’t mean to me what it seems to mean to most of my contemporaries.)
President Obama: Trapped in his own ever-so-judiciously-created paradoxes.
Mitt Romney: Lie, cheat, steal, and grin: it’s all he knows.
The American People: Once again, getting what we deserve.