The Third Debate: MIA

I didn't even watch the third presidential debate.

Yeah, I know, it's a crying shame. I was so so so excited about watching these things, and now I've put on the Weather Channel 33 Doppler radar just so I won't have to watch what I know is playing on every other channel.

Sure, some of you may say, "Philosophy, you have a horrible migraine! Of course you shouldn't be watching TV!" But I say to you, "Nay! It is my bounden duty to watch the debates and faithfully relate my innocent, unbiased, and unpartisan opinion to the masses at PNN. And by the way, GO BARACK!"

So why, you may ask, did I sully the good name of A New Philosophy by taking my leave of tonight's newsworthy events? I believe I can summarize my reasons with the following excuses:

1.) My cat is afraid of John McCain. Like Dave Barry, I am not making this up: my cat Charlotte Brontë becomes extremely agitated whenever John McCain is onscreen. She stares at the TV with wide, fearful eyes, perhaps in terror that McCain will pop out of the television and promptly send her to Iraq. I don't understand why she's so freaked out, really, but there you have it. By contrast, she purrs and makes a Happy Cat Face whenever Barack is speaking for any length of time. Now, I don't wish to excite the sympathies of PETA and bring upon myself some sort of accusation of cruelty to animals, an accusation that would probably result in paint being thrown at me or dolls with knives in their heads being shipped to my address. Therefore, I simply refuse to subject my cat to images that clearly terrify her.

2.) I'm starting to hallucinate that SNL is real. I tried turning on the debate at 9 p.m. tonight. I really tried. But as soon as I saw the moderator and the studio audience and the two little writing desk thingies (what were those, anyway?), I started having flashbacks to the VP Debate. No, no, not the REAL VP debate— the Saturday Night Live spoof of the VP Debate. All I could see was Tina Fey saying "Maverick!" And then I started twitching.

3.) These debates don't tell me anything I don't already know. I think perhaps my love affair with debates has been a love borne of ignorance. In the previous two election cycles I was 1) away from home, 2) without a personal television, and 3) much busier than I am now. Therefore, the debates accorded an opportunity for me to catch up a little bit on where each candidate stands. Now, though, I've known exactly where each of them stands for months and months, and it's starting to feel a little repetitive.

In all seriousness, folks: aren't scripted debates a little outdated in the age of online information? If these debates were actually DEBATES— that is, if each candidate argued for their position on the issues and tried to convince voters that they should change their minds about the issues— it might work. But our current concept of the debates— as forums wherein each candidate explains their policies and opinions to citizens in scripted, rehearsed statements— is kind of bogus, because I can look up each candidate's position on any number of issues just by turning on my computer. Want to know exactly what Obama's economic plan entails? Check out his website. Want to know how John McCain voted on environmental issues? You can see every single vote he's ever made online.

I guess what I'm trying to say is: we already know how each candidate feels, and they can't really try to persuade us to change our minds on issues while they're running for election at the same time. That would be risky, and no politician is willing to take risks like that when the stakes are this high. So maybe they should each just make one thirty-minute address to the nation, and we'll leave it at that.

4.) I totally have the worst migraine ever. It's true. Can someone bring me an aspirin or something?