I heart angry men

It is true that lately the angrier the man the more I like them. Part of it may be due to the fact that I am an angry girl. I am angry about the nation's idiotic foreign policy. I am angry that the disparity between the rich and the poor grows ever larger. I am angry that people carry little or no personal responsibility for themselves and act like idiots. I am angry that when I write that "I am angry" in my weekly email to interns manning the stations of president@whitehouse.gov. (I would email my congressman too, but he has an elaborate system where you can only email through his website) I get only an automated reply. And I am angry that there are no more Cheetos in the vending machine, a girl needs her salty snacks.

All [but that last] are probably why I remove myself from the whole politcal scene. I sometimes take it too seriously. I remember my parents telling me about listening to MLK and JFK speak on the radio. My mom still cries when she thinks about it. My dad still tells me what a great man JFK was. How he believes JFK made all things possible for his family to exist in the United States. Of course, my dad also believes that immigration and equal rights are bad things because Koreans are flooding California and living off of welfare which forces him to lie and tell everyone he was born in Mongolia. But I digress.

That was my parent hippie version of politics in America. A time when a president encouraged the youth to volunteer more and sent a man to the moon. He also escalated a war in the jungles of Southeast Asia, something they seem to ignore.

Yes, I am from a more cynical America. We always believe the government has an alternate agenda, and we let it go because that is the way it works. I teared up when listening to Obama speak four years ago at the Democratic convention, but five minutes later I was over it. My heart rehardened.

On Friday, my cubemate took a half day. Translation: I could listen to all the podcasts and talk radio I wanted. While normally guilt makes me do a little work, instead I was left unmonitored, reading the Economist online while listening to Bill Maher. I don't know how it started, but I listened to all the stump speeches. Some were comical. Some were frightening. Some were boring. The one that caught my attention was the pretty boy from North Carolina. Under forced chuckles I heard a sound that I liked. It was seething anger. I even went to http://www.johnedwards.com/ and donated money in a haze of good feelings. Let's be frank, that is more activism than I have done in 8 years.

But he was not the only angry man I love. No, my ultimate shout out goes to Keith Olbermann. I listened to his rants, raves, countdowns and putdowns as I happily pippetted on my bench. I did not even mind working, a little. I gave a mean snarfing laugh at his depiction of Britney, a "right on, brother man," during his tirade on Bush.

So here's to you angry people. I know it is a futile cause. While the rest of America rejoices at its greatness, I will be listening to you trying to shout over the cheery din.