I pointedly do not belong to any political party. Each makes me want to upchuck, if for slightly different reasons.
But it is only the Democratic Party that sends me daily emails to “renew” my membership. It is an old scam: pretend that your target subject is already a supporter, and ask for a mere renewal and not a new commitment that would imply the responsibility of a sober choice. Why, you, Mr. Bozo, are already committed — now cough up the money!
Of course, I am now no more likely to join the Democratic Party than I am the Socialist Party, with one current presidential candidate trying to polish off “socialism” for our admiration and loyalty. There are few things I despise more than socialism. When I was young I read a lot of socialist writings, especially from the 19th century. The general tenor? Anti-market, anti-private property, anti-individualistic.
And statist to the core. The worship of the state is one of the most vulgar occupations of our time; reliance upon the state in all things? Pitiable.
I am probably more likely to start a political party than join one. I like to think of my party as a very practical one: The Receivership. Such a party would guide the country through its upcoming bankruptcy and sovereign debt crisis.
You know, in a civilized fashion, rather than the martial law version that most Americans, rioting in the streets or quivering in their homes, will demand.