Thoughts on the second presidential debate

I don't know about anybody else, but the second presidential debate of the 2016 campaign  triggered a profound feeling of hopelessness. I watched an experienced (you don't have to like her experience to agree that she has it) woman 'debating' an imbecile and it looked like my life on steroids.

To be clear, I've not debated many imbeciles but the sense of being more than capable but that you're just missing that one thing - some particular appendage; the right skin color; the right nationality; the right 'look' - some f*cking thing over which you have zero control, that'll put you over the top? Yeah, I know that feeling all too well.

I'm not the smartest person I know, but I'm good at what I'm good at, and I gotta tell you, I've had more than a couple of interactions that were similar to what I saw a few weeks ago. Watching Sec'y Clinton basically re-litigate my own life was deeply disturbing. It just showed me (as if I needed showing) how completely out my control my world (the world?) is. It was depressing. Deeply depressing.

Mornings like this, I wake up knowing that my professional life is over. When a man of Donald's obvious incompetence, moral turpitude and overall stupidity is being held up by even a single person a some kind of model? When his millions - largely inherited - are the measure of his 'success'? Yeah, I don't have a f*cking shot. I know why people drink and I know why people act out. I know why the caged bird pecks out eyes. F*ck singing.

I don't trust Hillary, everybody knows that, but at least she's intelligent, does her damn homework, and is ready for the job - even if I think the war with Russia drum is already beating. But Donald, Donald is the quintessence of knowing nothing but having ever been given the benefit of the doubt. White male winning. Dumb as a box of nails and as useful when there's no hammer in sight, but winning and grinning anyway.

Donald is just like f*cking Columbus: lost no arse but receiving acclaim five f*cking centuries later for having 'discovered' the New World. And I, little brown me, with my $50 words, an accent and a vagina, think I could have something to add to the world? Not this century.

It's going to be hours before I purge this from my system.