Mainly, though, the Democratic Party has become the party of reaction. In reaction to a war that is ill conceived, we appear suspicious of all military action. In reaction to those who proclaim the market can cure all ills, we resist efforts to use market principles to tackle pressing problems. In reaction to religious overreach, we equate tolerance with secularism and forfeit the moral language that would help infuse our policies with a larger meaning. We lose elections and hope for the courts to foil Republican plans. We lost the courts and wait for a White House scandal.And increasingly we feel the need to match the Republican right in stridency and hardball tactics. The accepted wisdom that drives many advocacy groups and Democratic activists these days goes like this: The Republican Party has been able to consistently win elections not by expanding its base but by vilifying Democrats, driving wedges into the electorate, energizing its right wing and disciplining those who stray from the party line. If the Democrats ever want to get back into power, then they will have to take up the same approach....Ultimately, though, I believe any attempt by Democrats to pursue a more sharply partisan and ideological strategy misapprehends the moment we're in. I am convinced that whenever we exaggerate or demonize, oversimplify or overstate our case, we lose. Whenever we dumb down the political debate, we lose. For it's precisely the pursuit of ideological purity, the rigid orthodoxy and the sheer predictability of our current political debate, that keeps us from finding new ways to meet the challenges we face as a country. It's what keeps us locked in either/or thinking: the notion that we can have only big government or no government; the assumption that we must either tolerate forty-six million without health insurance or embrace socialized medicine. It is such doctrinaire thinking and stark partisanship that have turned Americans off of politics.
Barack Obama
He slammed his cup down. Coffee splashed over the rim and puddled around the base. What on earth gave you the idea I want space? I want you here. With me. All the time. I want to come home and hear the shower running and get excited because I know you’re in it. I want to struggle every morning to get up and go to the gym because I hate the idea of leaving your warm body behind in bed. I want to hear a key turn in the lock and feel contented knowing you’re home. I don’t want fucking space, Harper. Harper laughed. What’s funny? I didn’t mean space. I meant space, like closet space, a drawer in the bedroom, part of the counter in the bathroom. Trent’s mouth twitched, a slight smile making its way to his lips. Like a compromise. A commitment that I want more. I seem to recall you telling me in the car about something being a step in the right direction to a goal we both agreed on. Well, I want all those things you just said, with you, eventually. And if we start to leave things at each other’s places, it’s a step, right? Trent reached up, flexing his delicious tattooed bicep and scratched the side of his head. Without speaking, he leapt to his feet, grabbing Harper and pulling her into a fireman’s lift. Trent, she squealed, kicking her feet to get free. What are you doing? He slapped her butt playfully and laughed as he carried her down the hallway. Reaching the bedroom, Trent threw her onto the bed. We’re doing space. Today, right now. He started pulling open his drawers, looking inside each one before pulling stuff out of the top drawer and dividing it between the others. Okay, this is for your underwear. I need to see bras, panties and whatever other girly shit you have in here before the end of the day. Like a panther on the prowl, Trent launched himself at the bed, grabbing her ankle and pulling her to the edge of the bed before sweeping her into his arms to walk to the bathroom. He perched her on the corner of the vanity, where his stuff was spread across the two sinks. Pick one. Pick one what? Sink. Which do you want? You’re giving me a whole sink? Wait … stop… Trent grabbed her and started tickling her. Harper didn’t recognize the girly giggles that escaped her. Pointing to the sink farthest away from the door, she watched as he pushed his toothbrush, toothpaste and styling products to the other side of the vanity. He did the same thing with the vanity drawers and created some space under the sink. I expect to see toothbrush, toothpaste, your shampoo and whatever it is that makes you smell like vanilla in here. You like the vanilla? It never ceased to surprise her, the details he remembered. Turning, he grabbed her cheeks in both hands and kissed her hard. He trailed kisses behind her ear and inhaled deeply before returning to face her. Absolutely. I fucking love vanilla, he murmured against her lips before kissing her again, softly this time. Oh and I’d better see a box of tampons too. Oh my goodness, you are beyond! Harper blushed furiously. I want you for so much more than just sex, Harper.
Scarlett Cole