Convention season is upon us. I have hopes and fears — or at least some fervent wishes and grave concerns.
(I regret that my describing them will seem negative to some readers, and that I will be criticizing candidates some of you may support — and refusing to embrace your reasons for supporting them. If it’s of any comfort, I don’t insist that you agree with me, and I admit the possibility that I may be wrong. But I cannot tell you what I think without telling you what I think.)
My first hope: May God have mercy on our nation — even if we ourselves collectively may not. I don’t expect either convention to do us proud.
My second hope is that the people who sit back and think, “It’s working,” when they hear news of police officers being shot in our cities, won’t have any new cause for celebration in the next two weeks.
My third hope is that the only violence at either convention will be the violence of words. That will be toxic enough.
What I expect, when the conventions are finished, is a November choice among two tyrants-in-waiting and a libertarian. I wouldn’t mind seeing Libertarian Gary Johnson poll well enough to get into the presidential debates, but I won’t vote for him either.