Ammo Grrrll is back with a look at BAD IDEAS. She writes:
When in the course of human events the brain thinks up things to do, it is inevitable that some of those things are going to be bad ideas. For example, some bad business ideas would be a line of humorous sympathy cards or Certs that come in Garlic Flavor. Then, there’s the ideas (famously, often one’s last) that start with either “Watch this!,” “Hold my beer,” or “Nobody will ever find out.” (Oh, they will. They will. Two words: blue dress.)
As I mentioned a few weeks ago, some extremely bad ideas begin with getting on a plane named “The Lolita Express” or a boat called “Monkey Business.” But, see, these are bad ideas that you know from the git-go are bad ideas, but your brain is no longer the organ in charge. This is unfortunate because even if you aren’t very smart, the organ that IS making the decisions is even less intelligent and has neither the aptitude for anticipating consequences nor the slightest concern for what they might be. It is one devil-may-care organ!
What I’m talking about are ideas that seem like a good idea at the time.
Let’s say you go to a gorgeous tropical island and lie around for two weeks. You fall in love with the climate, the people, and the “Hang loose” culture. You turn to your spouse and say, “Let’s MOVE HERE!” Bad idea.
Here’s what you have forgotten: you were on vacation. That’s why you were having so much fun. Then you move to, say, Maui, and find yourself working. Just like back in Fargo. Only now you are fighting traffic on the one two-lane main drag and your rent is twice what it was in Fargo. In an island economy, a small can of tomato paste can cost $4.00 and you have to grab up Christmas wrapping paper in July because it may not come again until February. You are waiting tables for minimum wage, bringing drinks with umbrellas to demanding, sunburned, crappy tippers like, well, YOU.
Plus, that lovely island culture that seemed so relaxing, turns out to be a big pain in the patootie when you need your car serviced and the mechanic decided to go surfing instead. He believes that “the surf was up” is a perfectly reasonable excuse. And he tells you to “Hang Loose” when you get all bent out of shape about it.
Here’s another bad idea, one that a couple of our friends came up with to their eventual bankruptcy and much marital discord: “Let’s open a Bed and Breakfast! Oh, the people we’ll meet, the fun we’ll have!”
Before you do this, ask yourself a few questions: “Do I LIKE having company every single bleeping day?” “Do I enjoy laundering sheets that sweaty strangers have ‘slept’ in?” And, “How many different ways are there to prepare eggs and French Toast?”
Lastly, and most importantly, a really bad idea is to elect a person to a high political position from a category rather than from any hint of suitability for the job, unless you consider “suitability” to mean that there is a nice crease in the suit of his pants. It is not only possible, but probable that at some point I will vote for a woman, an African-American, a gay person, possibly even a gay African-American woman. But it will not be because she is any of those things, but because she or he is not only qualified for the job but a conservative.
Just one of the many reasons I am decidedly not Ready for Hillary is that I recall an ad from 2008 where she was supposed to be Santa Claus, an understandable role model since he always wears a large pants suit too. Unlike Santa, however, who makes and pays for his own presents, Hillary’s were coming from the taxpayers. At first I thought it was an oppo ad, a parody, but no! She was proud to be a Santa Claus, “giving” free stuff to people by taking it from others. She’s also a liar by the clock. So the fact that we have the same plumbing is not at all persuasive.
If the wreckage of the last six years (and more, God help us, 22 months more) is to be undone, or at least ameliorated, we must find a conservative with great ideas, not just good hair, or an ethnic name or a uterus (genderist!). And then we must not be distracted if in second grade he pulled a girl’s hair (rape culture!) or bought a ranch that once had a rock with a bad word on it (racist!), or put a vomiting dog in the luggage carrier of her car (species-ist!). We have less than a year to find such a person, rip him or her to shreds in the customary manner in the primaries, providing plenty of ammo for the Democrat opponent, then fight amongst ourselves over minor crap, and then, by God, we better go all in to win. It will be the fight of our lives. Saddle up.