You don't snort it, you don't smoke it, you don't drink it, you don't shoot it -- you just read it. But dKos is a powerful addiction.
And I was a junkie. Lately, though, I am not getting the same high, or the same jones when I go off-line. I don't hit reload 20 times an hour, and I go full mornings now without even checking in.
It's not just dKos. This little political wonkmonster inside me that I had never known was there, this beast that had gone into hibernation when Reagan was re-elected and only came out again when I heard Howard Dean in the first primary debate, this demon is sort of drifting off to sleep. I'm losing it.
It's not that I don't care, exactly. There's a sense of hopelessness, sure, that puts a damper on things. Kerry did not take office. The Gannon affair is being treated like small potatoes. The top man assigned to protect us from ourselves condones torture, and the top man assigned to protect us from others I'm told condones pushing nuns out of helicopters. So, yeah, things have looked brighter.
There's a lack of big fights to fight right now, and a lack of heroes to get behind. Dean for DNC chair, that was fun, but now he's behind the curtain doing good deeds and I don't know where to put my energy. I'd love to take down Bloomberg this year, but so far none of the Democrats have inspired me. They all seem to be running for prestige and as a stepping-stone to spotlit stages, not to make New York work. What else have we got? Social Security, yeah. Some anti-Santorum, even anti-Lieberman stuff, whatever. As a good progressive of course I am supporting everyone's efforts, but personally these are not rallying cries for me.
And I guess the big fights - keeping religious expression free not forced on the unwilling for instance, or a right to privacy in the home or in one's reading habits - they just don't seem to be going anywhere. Honestly I don't think the time has come for religious freedom yet, and privacy rights are not going to happen under this administration. Better to wait for better sailing than row fruitlessly against the tide.
Maybe it is a sign of the addict that I am sad to lose my addiction. I can't help but feel that something good was brought out in me, though, when I cared passionately about causes beyond my personal horizon. When I felt that there were men and women out there bigger than me and depending on me. When I felt like I could make a difference. When I felt like we stood for something tangible, not merely philosophical.
Dunno. Maybe I'm just losing it.