It’s been nice knowing you, it really has. We had some good times, didn’t we? Remember when Howard Dean rose to prominence because of internet donations and grassroots efforts? And when Barack Obama was elected in part because a ton of people gave $5 or $10 or $20 to his campaign? Heck, even those wacky Republican teabaggers got in on the action!
But today, I bid you farewell. Don’t get me wrong, I know you’re still here, technically, chugging along. I’m not suggesting that you’re going to disappear forever, or that you’re dead to me. You haven’t died, Democracy, but you’ve changed. It used to be about us, you know? We could talk about ideas and debate heatedly, and sometimes things didn’t turn out my way, but I always at least felt like I had a say in our relationship. Now, you don’t listen. Why would you? You’ve found someone else — and they’re a lot more wealthy and influential than I am (I maintain that I’m better-looking, but hey, it’s you who has to go to bed with them every night). Democracy, darling, I suspect that they will only be a bad influence on you — they’re almost guaranteed to make you more conservative and definitely less responsive to anyone’s needs but theirs. I mean, why would you bother to think about me when your new beau is footing all your bills? I don’t mean to sound bitter, D, but don’t you see what’s going on here? They own you, baby!
Remember that time we marched on Washington in defense of reproductive rights? When we nearly froze our toes off on the Mall during Obama’s inauguration? When we went door-to-door in Pittsburgh, in Nashua, in Ohio? I was really in love with you then. I really felt like you got me, you know? Those were great times, and I’ll miss them. I hate to say it, Democracy, but that new fling of yours? He ain’t me. I can’t even bring myself to consider him a person. I hope all the money — and I understand, it’s a lot of money — is worth it.
You take care now. Thanks for the memories.