Better self-knowledge through beer, and rambling political commentary

Forgive even-more-than-usual excesses of rambling, as I have had 3 beers and a long hot day and am writing even-more-than-usually for myself. I am in the process of transferring all of my data from one laptop to another (my 2 year old has finally defeated me - he has been gradually pulling keys and peripherals from the old laptop until I have at last been forced to concede that it is useless - but I have such a silly attachment to it!). While I wait for files to copy, I have been writing menus and shopping lists and looking at my budget spreadsheet to try to squeeze a few more drops of blood from that stone. I now have all of that pretty well in order but was still fiddling around with the files (I keep menus and shopping lists in one, budgets in another), and realized that I am using this overdone electronic organization as a writing substitute. I feel like my fingers are itching to write something - it doesn't help that my husband is subjecting me to part two of the Mark Twain documentary. When I am busy with the kids or driving or otherwise engaged, ideas for sentences and pages and paragraph leap fully formed into my head, but when I sit at the keyboard, I seem to have no more imagination than is required for shopping lists.

I do remember one of my more-than-shopping-list thoughts from earlier today. It was the juxtaposition of my rereading of A Handmaid's Tale and recent US political events that I have been trying to ignore. The parallel between enforced illiteracy for women in the novel and the current Republican rejection of teaching evolution in school struck me as ominous and significant. It seems to me that any group that relies on ignorance to win adherents must have arguments so thin that reason could not win adherents legitimately. If there are holes to be poked in anything, surely those arguments can better be made openly, with all evidence displayed.

I warned you all this would be rambling. I guess I'm just experiencing a resurgence of that indignation, that need to shake my fist, that I had after the election last year. At times like this, I feel like all of our political clashes must be rooted merely in misunderstanding, that everyone must feel as I do - I find it so hard to believe in the malice of others. I know it is childish and reveals my inability to put myself in others' shoes, but right this minute after 3 beers and 3 paragraphs, it feels like all that is wanting is the right argument to achieve real unity. I've felt this way on and off since becoming a mother. What I want for my children is this - a future of possibility, of opportunity - not guaranteed happiness but the chance for it, given hard work and good choices. I want this for all children, and I have to believe most parents want it for their children too. If that is the case, how is it this hard to find consensus?

Really, Deb, shut it. I had a whole thing to bitch about regarding the kids' nastiness toward each other, but I got sidetracked. Guess I should head to bed. Or have another drink.