Someone recently shared how sad the division in the Democratic party makes them feel, and I agree with them. I take no pleasure in seeing the party torn apart. But while I am very sad there is so much division in my former party, I'm sadder that the DNC's response to the division has been to tell those of us who are disaffected that we need to just shut up and get over it, as though our concerns are not worth anyone's time. For lifelong Democrats who, before now, never would have dreamt of voting Republican or for a third party or not at all, that is a slap in the face. This is how our party loyalty is rewarded?

A lot of mistakes have been made, the largest of which has been telling people who disagree to get in line. That started even before the race was decided and came mostly from the Obama camp. I don't mind dialogue; I mind being argued at and jeered at and talked down to and told to listen without being listened to and then told to join the camp that sent the people who jeered at me and talked down to me in the first place. It's like an abusive partner who beats the living shit out of you, then demands that you to be there to have sex with them that night and says you are wrong for not complying. At some point your self-respect demands that you leave that person in your dust and not look back.

Though I don't expect him to be the least bit effective as president except for blowing smoke up people's asses, I wouldn't be surprised if Obama wins. The Democratic party machine is very powerful, and they will do whatever they feel they have to do in order to make it happen (other than treating those who disagree with respect, that is), as many of us who feel abandoned by the party can attest to. That is why many of us have said we did not leave the Democratic party; it left us. Our anger comes from the sadness of watching our views be trivialized, if not outright ignored, while the party turns into something we no longer recognize or want to be associated with and marches down the road as though it's done something marvelous. This isn't a time when the Democratic party and the average American who depends on the things the Democratic party champions can afford this kind of division, but here it is, because of the decisions that were made. It's a frightening time.

But it's also exciting, because those of us who are devoted to the foundational principles of the party now have an opportunity to start a new political movement that speaks to the millions like us. I've never been so interested in national politics, never been a part of anything with the potential to be so historic, and I'm excited about where we can go from here.

I didn't watch Senator Clinton's speech last night; I knew she would say whatever she would have to say in order to keep her word to support Senator Obama's presidential bid. Unlike Obama in the very recent past, she hasn't struck me as one to go back on her word. I also know she is playing the game, doing whatever she feels she must do in order to semi-protect her career within the party. That may or may not be wise.

An appeaser is one who feeds a crocodile, hoping it will eat him last.
~ Winston Churchill

PUMAs are well-represented in Denver, and they've discovered the DNC is pressuring delegates to do a secret hotel vote for the nomination, which would make the roll call vote a mere formality which means nothing. Someone is running scared, and it is not Senator Clinton. I'm not surprised by the back-door politics; it's yet another thing to add to my growing list titled, "I saw this coming from a mile away."

I stopped feeding the crocodile and will not go back. I hope Senator Clinton doesn't get eaten by the crocodile she is feeding.

As they become known to and accepted by us, our feelings and the honest exploration of them become sanctuaries and spawning grounds for the most radical and daring of ideas. They become a safe-house for that difference so necessary to change and the conceptualization of any meaningful action. Right now, I could name at least ten ideas I would have found intolerable or incomprehensible and frightening, except as they came after dreams and poems. This is not idle fantasy, but a disciplined attention to the true meaning of "it feels right to me." We can train ourselves to respect our feelings and to transpose them into a language so they can be shared.

~ Audre Lorde, "Poetry Is Not a Luxury"

I have never liked debate, though I could never point to quantitative evidence to justify my distaste. But this afternoon I read "Poetry Is Not a Luxury", and now I understand why I don't like debate: the way most people debate things like politics (since that is what is most on my mind when I post here, after photography) leaves no room for feelings. To many people who debate politics, it is not good enough to say, "It feels right/wrong to me," in defense of one's political position. One must stick to cold, hard facts or risk being called unreasonable, unrealistic, or, the most offensive thing any woman can dare to be in a society that expects women to be pleasant at all times to all people, angry. Anything other than facts is dismissed as irrelevant.

Separate your soul from your brain, and you end up with little more than a bucket of dirt and a few buckets of water.

I cannot separate my logic from my feelings and be whole. A lifetime of trying to do so is probably a large part of the mental woundedness I have been slowly healing over the past decade. My instincts knew the right thing to do, though; when teenaged me realized my feelings are not welcomed in the realm of debate, I avoided debate. I have not yet learned the language that will allow me to fluently share my feelings in debate and have my words heard and respected, so I stay far from it. Whenever I make the mistake of venturing into that realm, I end up flailing angrily at the injustice of being told my feelings do not matter, only facts do...and then, only facts the other side wants to hear. My flailing doesn't help get my message across, and others use it as "proof" that feelings have no place in debate.

A place that has no room for my humanity has no room for me.

Now I know, "Because it feels right to me," is as valid a reason for my political position just as much as unemotional facts are...more so, in my case, because experience has taught me my intuition is far more reliable than the "facts" of other people's words and public actions. I have spent most of my life watching people say one thing in the public eye and doing exactly the opposite in private. My intuition can pick up a fake far faster than I can find the words to prove it to those who are blind to the reality of feelings. It happened during Bush's campaign, in spite of being surrounded by people who claimed Bush was akin to Jesus Christ and just as good for our country. Sometimes I wonder what many of them think of him, eight years later; I am no longer part of that community, so I don't know. All I know is I was right about him, even before I had the words to "prove" anything, even when my only defense was, "Something about him just doesn't seem right to me." Absolutely nothing about what that man has done or said or NOT done or said is a surprise to me. I felt it coming when he first entered the race and the people around me began worshipping the ground he walked on. Now I just shrug whenever something new comes out and think, "I tried to tell them, but they wouldn't listen."

And so it is with Obama.

Why do I fight against Obama's campaign, in spite of Senator Clinton's public support of his campaign? Because it feels right to me.

Why do I find a dollar here and there to help pay down Senator Clinton's debt and send prints of my voters registration form reading "No Party" to every DNC request I get for contributions that I don't shred? Because it feels right to me.

Why do I support PUMA PAC with my time and money and energy? Because it feels right to me.

Why do I not allow dissenting comments on this subject in my blog? Because it feels right to me.

Donate $20.08 to help retire Senator Clinton's campaign debt on Independence Day!