In Which the Candidates Destroy the World with Ice

I recently finished Vonnegut's Cat's Cradle, in which a writer finds himself witness to the end of the World.  

And Mr. Frost was right, at least in the book:  the world ends in ice, courtesy of Ice-9, a chemical designed to turn any object with water in it to solid ice with a melting point of 114 degrees.  It is your typical Vonnegut, bitingly funny yet wholly tragic all at the same time.  He doesn't have many good things to say about Religion, which seems to be a pack of lies designed to make a bleak life more livable, or Science, which we keep bending to the purpose of killing each other in mass quantities.  It is a quintessential 20th Century book, acidic and jaded but oddly not afraid, fiddling on the roof in sarcastic defiance as the world burns.  In a world in which we fear so much, it's kind of nice to see someone reckon with the dark side of the Great American Century with a caustic disdain.

Well, enough of that.  I think in honor of the book and in honor of our never ending political season I will ask the question:  if our illustrious band of Presidential Candidates got their hands on Ice-9, what would they do with it?

Bernie Sanders:  he'd complain that Ice-9 is a weapon for the rich, for the haves.  He'd take all the Ice-9 in our great land and redistribute it so that every man, woman, and child in America had the same amount.  That way we all have an equal shot at destroying the world.

Ted Cruz: In spite of his unfortunate and recently acquired moniker, I actually entrust Ted to treat Ice-9 with the awesome respect it deserves, and keep it under wraps until Jesus tells him to use it through the medium of Christ's choosing.  Maybe He will disguise himself as a hobo, maybe He will write a message in Ted's Cheerios (oooooooooooooooo) or maybe, after Ted the Prez eats too much spicy pepperoni pizza from Cuchino's Capitol Pizza, Christ will appear to Ted in a dream and say "now is the time to unleash Ice-9 upon the world, for the hour is at hand and you, Ted Cruz, are the agent of the Apocalypse, of Christ's coming again." Thus the world ends on a bout of indigestion, and I'm sure Vonnegut would have a good laugh at that one.

John Kasich:  He would lecture Ice-9 on how he is the most adult President ever, cool and calm, above the fray of politics, listening to jazz while he does his dishes. He would drone on and on until Ice-9 fell asleep, and John would tuck it into bed and give it a kiss on the cheek and then head downstairs for a warm glass of milk and a few minutes with a Treatise on Steam Power by Sir Humphry Higgenbotham, recently voted the most boring book in the world.

Donald Trump:  I'm pretty sure that DT would try to have sex with it.  He just seems like the kind of guy that dabs a little bit of cologne right above the genitals as part of the morning routine, because when you are Donald Trump you never know when some random woman is going to be so overcome by your presence and raw power that the only valid way for her to respond is to offer a blow job.  You just never know.  I mean, Believe Me, when you're Donald Trump it can happen at any time. You've got to be prepared.  

Hillary Clinton:  She would hide it in a shoe box under her bed, or in the back if her closet, where it will be totally, totally safe.

House of Cards! Season 4 Episodes 1-7.

Season 4 of House of Cards starts badly.  Lucas Goodwin sits on the upper bunk in a jail cell, narrating a stroke story while his cell mate....well, strokes it.  More like chokes it into submission.

And I say to myself "it can only go up from here."

And it does.  Thank God, it does.

I was left cold by season two's convoluted plot with it's Major Dad tie in. And Season Three I felt simply lacked punch, it lacked zip.  Frank Underwood finds that his scheming has its limits in the Oval Office and is frustrated on all fronts.  His marriage breaks down, his campaign for election is on the ropes.  The only "good" thing for President Underwood is that evil henchman Doug has finally killed Rachel Posner, tidying up the Peter Russo affair.  Sort of.

Evil henchman Doug.  Heh.

But now in Season 4, it's open war between Claire and Frank, and watching them pull various levers of power to try and undo the other is fascinating.  Simply fascinating.  But just as the battle between them reaches fever pitch Lucas Goodwin, out of prison on witness protection after wearing a wire to prove....something...., tries to assassinate the President to avenge the death of Zoe Barnes.  The President is alive, just barely.  Goodwin is dead.  Secret Service agent Edward Meechum takes the bullets meant for President Underwood, and in one fell swoop two pretty important characters are gone.

Claire swoops in to the White House, stealing the acting Presidential Pants from the timid Donald Blythe and brokering a deal that diffuses a crisis in Russia with old frenemies Remy and Donald Tusk (Major Dad, now with beard).  Some kind of oil deal between the US China and Russia.  The details, as always, are sort of mushy.  What its important here is that Claire has taken the reigns of power, a modern day Agrippina, while her husband lays dying.

And die he would have, if Evil Henchman Doug hadn't gotten Health and Human Services secretary to bump Vinnie the Meatball Bompensiaro off the top of the donors list (thereby ensuring Vinnie's death).  So that's now four people, by my count, that Underwood or his Evil Henchman has directly left dead in his wake.

When Claire, in the closing stages of working out the deal with Russia at a G7 summit in Germany, finds out that Frank is still alive, its clear that she wishes he had died.  She hates him so, at least for now.  But she returns from her victory against the Russians (how many people in the world can say that?) to be by Frank's side.  They realize they need each other, and they prepare to head into the second half of Season Four united, at least for a moment.

It's pretty incredible how now, midway through Season Four, all the loose ends from Season Three are neatly sewn up. His main challenger in the democratic race can't lie about meeting Lucas Goodwin before he died, so he is now the presumptive nominee.  Lucas is dead.  There are only a few journalists left who know anything about Zoe Barns, and one of them is scared out of her wits, popping Xanex like Pez.  Only an old ex editor and his aging dog Spartacus are still digging around in the shit, and they are our last hope at topping this house of cards before Season Six or Seven comes.  

But its all very good, its all very compelling.  The Underwoods thus far are at their power-grubbing worst, and I absolutely hate them.  I hate them.  They, and pretty much almost everyone in the show (except for Spartacus and his master), is a horrible person. I hate them with glee, not unlike hating Colonel Tavington in The Patriot (the only good thing, I think, to really come out of that movie).  I desperately want to see them fail.

I just hope it happens soon.  Good as the first seven episodes of this season's House of Cards has been, I don't know if I could watch President Underwood for another four years.

In Which Nick Casts a Super Tuesday Vote For...

So I am standing in line waiting to vote in the Presidential Primary, the first time I've ever voted in one.  And I'm voting for...

Taa Daa!!! Hillary Clinton.  But I don't really feel good about it.  

I did consider voting in the Republican Primary, to be an anti-Trump vote.  I would have voted for Rubio in that case.  But you know what, my Republican friends? You got yourselves into this mess (if indeed you consider it to be a mess), and I'm not going to bail you out. Let it be on your head.  

Plus, even though Rubio is the Republican I'd be most likely to vote for, I'd be throwing my tacit support behind someone who will not support measures that combat climate change, which is issue nummer eins for me.  Defending that stance is another blog post and a half, but for now just take it as is.  

But in truth I also don't like how Rubio can't seem to say three words without name dropping the big JC.  I believe very much in the separation of Church and State, and I'm actually kind of glad that so far faith has not been a big part of the Democratic race.  In my heart of hearts, while I wonder what it says about my latent faith, I simply can't vote for someone who asks for God's guidance when in my experience God is largely silent and, perhaps, not as impressed with us as we'd like to believe. 

That leaves me with a Democratic Ballot, and a choice between Clinton and Sanders.  I may be a tree hugger and a secularist, but on fiscal matters I'm squarely in the middle....okay maybe center left...but in short I feel that he's just too far left to govern effectively.  

He's also so damn old.  He should be settling down in a New York Deli with a pastrami on rye and some hot black coffee with a side of ice chips (cools it down, you know?), not running for President.

So Hillary, that leaves you.  

She's imminently qualified, an excellent politician.  But with a history of scandals swirling around her and Mr. Bill it's hard to believe that she can be totally trusted.  She also doesn't really know how normal people live - though I think only about half the candidates really do.  She's hawkish too, which can be good or bad.  Expect us to kill some more terrorists, but also don't be surprised if a few more Afghan weddings get bombed by drones.  We seem to have a bad habit of doing that.  

At the end of the day, though, I feel she will take action on climate change, continue much of Obama's agenda, practice at least a modicum of compassion in office, and has a better chance then Sanders of actually governing with some efficacy.  

So, with a grudging sigh, I say go Clinton.  Yippee skippy bo pippy a doo waa day.