
Ah, early November—the season when America waits for things. Fall is crappy and wet, but winter—like a father glaring at you over the back of his hand—has yet to unleash his fury upon us. Baseball season is over, but binge-eating-and-gift-giving season has yet to begin. This time last year, we were waiting for our newly elected President to replace the semi-retarded cowboy who had taken over the White House. Now, we’re waiting for aforesaid President to make good on one of his biggest campaign promises, despite the strenuous opposition of a whole nation of semi-retarded cowboys. And tomorrow night is Fedor vs. Rogers, which, if you don’t know what that is, oh man. The point is, we’ve got a lot to look forward to over the next couple days/months/decades, and the anticipation is killing me.
It didn’t kill this guy, though, thanks to the swift intercession of paramedics from the Office of the Attending Physician. Ironically, the man who collapsed at Michele Bachmann’s “House Call” anti-health care reform rally on Capitol Hill yesterday was saved by government doctors. Apolitical coverage of the event has been hard to come by, in part because the whole thing was a piece of political theatre to begin with and in part because a bunch of other horrible stuff happened yesterday. The New York Times offered some street-level reporting in their Well blog, the tone of which I would describe as barely-restrained anger. The author the article, David Herszenhorn, points out that many in the crowd, “while visibly angry, could not articulate the main problems in the health care system or how they should be solved.” Now that’s the real America, right there: visibly angry, and unable to articulate what the problem is.
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