Tennesseefree.com

So I don’t watch a huge amount of television. Jack Bauer is out of rehab, which makes the world a little safer for all of us, and the next season of Battlestar is right around the corner. So I’m good to go.

Last night I tuned in and thought I had picked up an old taping of Ricky Lake. Seriously, you had the sometimes crying, fake-black accenting woman, and the security guard barking orders. They were complemented by a bug-eyed crazy haired guy with a question in the audience, and the ambiguous male hair dresser of whom you just weren’t quite sure.

“Ricky! Ricky! Ricky!”

Wait. That’s a debate? A Presidential debate?

I must admit a few things before sizing up Leftopia 2008, Carolina edition. First– I am biased. Anyone who has read much at AnAmericanFrontPorch.com knows that I’m not down with Socialism.

Secondly, I watched about 10 minutes of the debate Bolshevik barfight. No worries, I’m fair to the Republicans too. For the most part what is said in these debates isn’t the point. It’s who said what, when, to whom, how, with what barrage of pledges in tow.

 That being said, this was not a good  night for the Democrats.

Glen did a nice job earlier of summarizing my favorite petty exchange (one of many) between Senators Clinton and Obama. The entire evening seemingly teemed with “oh no you didn’t,” followed by “awwww snap” from the audience. While one participant attempted to preen the feathers of his or her record, the other threw spitballs and spaghetti from across the cafeteria (eating there of course, is mandatory, and taxpayer enforced.)

The petty, puerile manner in which the candidates carried themselves this evening was not only embarassing, but served as a sad testimony to the rest of the world that we as America while strong, are still adolescents. The party marketing itself as the party of peace and stability exhibited its true colors as the party of petty insults, emotional reactions, and slap-fights.

There’s really no substance to “round up.” This evening the Democratic candidates came out looking like wet cats in a brawl. They hissed, clawed, and only took time out when it was necessary to clean up their own derrieres.