I’ve never understood why a sane, intelligent human being would want to squander so much of their life energy in a job where so many constraints are imposed, so little concrete success is possible, and such an unthinkable burden of responsibility is levied against you by the entire world.
It’s a dirty job, but some people are willing to do it anyway.
On occasion, I can’t help but suspect that they are all SOCIOPATHS. Or, in some cases, imbeciles.
“Um, herp derp. Umda la la!”
— President Andrew Johnson, Imbecile.
Most of the time, though, I imagine that their stoic countenances are just barely rigid enough to survive each camera shot, and that when they turn away, there are tears of frustration and hope glistening at the corner of their eyes. I suspect that when the microphone is pulled away, their next sentence is uttered in a quavering voice. And I want to believe that, after a debate where two individuals are pitted against each other like two gladiators in a coliseum, after blood is drawn, characters assassinated, and honor sacrificed cheaply for political gain, that everything changes when the curtains draw closed. That the two candidates can step up to each other, clap the dust and the detrimental insults from each others shoulders, smile ruefully, and say: “We are fighting for the same thing. We are a dual sacrifice on the altar of American democracy, that the people may have CHOICE.” And I want to believe that they recognize themselves in their opponent’s weary expression.
I would really like to believe that.