Newscoma

All this Pro-America talk of the last week has made me step back and try to figure out what a real American is. I think I’m failing the test. Here are some of the reasons why:

• I read books. I know that I’m not supposed to read books, but I do. I also read nonsensical books. I’m rereading If Chins Could Kill by Bruce Campbell. There must be something Un American about reading about zombie movies from the 80s.
• I like sushi. I don’t get sushi as often as I would like but it’s not a traditional American food. This, of course, makes me a communist.
• I don’t watch Fox News. I’m sure I’m on the Terrorist Watch list for the faux pas. Actually, Fox News makes me itch. This could indeed make me a Marxist.
• I have indeed in private settings (Twitter) tried to start a movement based on Joe the Moose Whisperer. It hasn’t taken off though as I’m not a trendsetter. This makes me a hippie.
• I like science. I think science is the key to moving forward. This of course will most likely put me in Guantanamo Bay.
• I think Bill O’Reilly is insane. He is paid a great deal of money to be insane on television. I’m now on the O’Reilly hit list.
• I get along with Republicans and Libertarians quite well. I see them as people and not the evil enemy. This, of course, means I will be brought up on crimes of treason.
• I like import beer. I like beer in general. I drink too much beer. I am Coma Six Pack.
• I am not a plumber and my plumbing skills are non-existent.
• I’ve never spent $150,000 on clothes.
• I do not own a gun. It doesn’t bother me in the least if you have one because I know people that eat what they kill. If they didn’t hunt, they wouldn’t be eating. I also do not own a tasar. I do, however, have some old pork rinds lying on the floor of my car that I will toss at people trying to harm me. I do believe they will do damage. I guess this makes me a potential victim.
• I do not scream shrilly over politics with people who disagree with me. I buy them a beer. I am probably being eyed suspiciously.

So what does it mean to be an American? Beats me. When I think of being an American, I always think of my grandfather, who was on tap to play for the Tennessee Volunteers in 1940 and joined the Marines instead to fight in the Pacific. I think of that lady at the convenience store I stop everyday who is always so nice to me. I think of Homer sitting night after night at the softball field or the basketball court watching her daughters enjoy their childhood. I think of editorbates daughter who is always smiling and cries when her mother leaves her at the daycare she’s in because she loves her. I think of killa, who is working herself to death to get her Master Degree.

I don’t think Americans can be defined. We are who we are.

So why should we accept labels?

Over the past weeks, I’ve watched bloggers I respect suggest that anyone who is against Hillary is a misogynist or that anyone who opposes Obama is uninspired.

What will it take for those of us who are engaged in political debate — and that includes the media — to realize that it’s about America?

It shouldn’t be about race. It shouldn’t be about gender. It shouldn’t be about rich or poor or business or labor or Republicans or Democrats.

It should be about America.

He’s right. It should be about America.

Read the rest of this post because there’s a whole lot more. It’s really good.