Cats are Republicans; everyone knows that. They're not neocons; they disapprove of both deficit spending and the Iraq war. They're old-fashioned, limited-government, libertarian, tax-cutting Republicans. They got energized during the Goldwater campaign, which was disappointing, and then again during the Reagan years. After Reagan: doom and gloom for cats, with ideological idiots in control and ideological idiots in the opposition.
So what did they do? They napped. They chased inanimate objects. They demanded more food. They were killing time, waiting for the pendulum to swing again. Meanwhile, they were batting at the pendulum.
I try not to discuss politics with my cats; sometimes the conversation degenerates into hissing matches. I'm not that good a hisser, so the cats walk off thinking they have won. Of course, the cats always walk off thinking they have won, so nothing new there. They're geniuses at repurposing defeat as victory. If we put a cat in charge in Iraq, we'd be out of there in six months and everyone would be sure we'd won.
Since we're never going to win, the sooner we start pretending we've won, the better off the world will be. The cats and I are of one mind on this matter.
On the other hand, cats are adamantly opposed to social programs. They wonder why the money is not being spent on better things like, say, cats. They point out that they can find food and housing, even raise children, without a subsidy from the federal government. I point out that they are using a subsidy from me instead. They yell, "Private sector! Private sector! Gotcha!" So annoying.
