Might as well do this before tonight's candidate's debate, so here goes:
Tier 1 - Trump
rationale: the feisty front-runner for now who isn't going away anytime soon
Tier 2 - Rubio
rationale: hasn't looked hopeless, at least not yet
Tier 3 - Cruz, Jeb!, Christie, Kasich
rationale: the only other candidates with even a slim chance of winning the GOP nomination
Tier 4 - the grifters, who I won't even bother to name
rationale: in it for the money
Dark Horse - Paul Ryan
rationale: may be the only possible GOP candidate who has a chance of winning in the general election
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
Monday, November 9, 2015
Last Day on Earth
by Lawrence Raab
If it’s the title of a movie you expect
everything to become important—a kiss,
a shrug, a glass of wine, a walk with the dog.
But if the day is real, life is only
as significant as yesterday—the kiss
hurried, the shrug forgotten, and now,
on the path by the river, you don’t notice
the sky darkening beyond the pines because
you’re imagining what you’ll say at dinner,
swirling the wine in your glass.
You don’t notice the birds growing silent
or the cold towers of clouds moving in,
because you’re explaining how lovely
and cool it was in the woods. And the dog
had stopped limping!—she seemed
her old self again, sniffing the air and alert,
the way dogs are to whatever we can’t see.
And I was happy, you hear yourself saying,
because it felt as if I’d been allowed
to choose my last day on earth,
and this was the one I chose.
If it’s the title of a movie you expect
everything to become important—a kiss,
a shrug, a glass of wine, a walk with the dog.
But if the day is real, life is only
as significant as yesterday—the kiss
hurried, the shrug forgotten, and now,
on the path by the river, you don’t notice
the sky darkening beyond the pines because
you’re imagining what you’ll say at dinner,
swirling the wine in your glass.
You don’t notice the birds growing silent
or the cold towers of clouds moving in,
because you’re explaining how lovely
and cool it was in the woods. And the dog
had stopped limping!—she seemed
her old self again, sniffing the air and alert,
the way dogs are to whatever we can’t see.
And I was happy, you hear yourself saying,
because it felt as if I’d been allowed
to choose my last day on earth,
and this was the one I chose.
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