Post-Identity Politics, My Arse

Perhaps I'm not the first to say it,
I haven't researched this oppinion,
but let it be known that Harriet Miers
has been a red herring all along.

I had my suspicions in the beginning.

One NPR analysist was bold enough to swagger:
"Well, one thing this has done is pushed
us past an era of identity politics . . .
Bush is not required not to nominate a woman . . .
we are past that now and he can look for someone (ie. a man)
who is truely qualified."

Now, I've taken the liberty to misquote this guy exactly
because my scholarship is often lazy-*ssed.
But you get the drift.

Bush wanted to put Gonzales on the bench all along.

I wouldn't be surprised if Harriet agreed to take the hit.

Further, this administration knew if it foreground an "ugly" woman,
yes, that's what I said, I'm going there,
people would reject her more easily. Have you seen her pics?
Seriously. The make-up around her eyes is bizarre.
Harriet is a True BITCH (in the Joreen sense of the word) in so much
that she is marginalized by those who are heavily invested
in performing femininty the way the patriarch demands . . .


Of course, closer friends have suggested that
I am, indeed, a bit of a wack-o, conspiracy theorist . . .
who is slightly paranoid. Nevertheless.

I am wearing orange today.
I look totally washed in orange.
But I need to risk it:
it's a cute, professional-type blouce for Halloween.

I've been wrestling with suspcions that
people only keep me around the U because I "look" the part.
My teaching this quarter sucked.
But I'm easy on the eyes, dress/act/speak professionally,
and give great first impressions.
Too bad I'm a bottomless pit of fragmented thoughts.
Broken goods.

I dance with the patriarch each day.