Posts Tagged ‘#FeelTheBern’

The Thinking Viking did his part for democracy.

And I will do it again and again as required.

I went to the Colorado Democratic Caucus on Super Tuesday 2016.    My precinct went for #TeamBerrnie 27-17.  (ed:  see the caucus rules.  Since HRC got more than a.5 delegate mathematically, and we round up, so…  Only two delegates per precinct, so despite a 10 point win, Bernie only got one of two delegates.  Bear in mind this is just the first stage of a four stage process before the all or nothing state convention. ) When we asked for delegates for the next level, we got two volunteers.  One for Hillary, one for Bernie.  We straw-poll voted a caucus chairman and secretary.  We played by the rules.  We had two delegates to chose.  Bernie’s was easy.

When we asked for delegates for Hillary,  only one stood up.  When we asked for alternates “just in case”…no one stood.  Crickets.

Crickets..and awkward silence  for the alternate Hillary delegate.

More awkward silence

The Bernie team is looking at team Hillary  kinda going Hey, who is gonna stand up and take that back up spot?  We have five people willing to be alternate delegates for Bernie….

Yeah, someone finally stood up and reluctantly took that alternate Hillary delegate spot.


Bernie won the precinct vote 27-17.

Yeah, not electable at all.

Think about it






The Thinking Viking has seen his fair share of candidates speak. It is not my first rodeo, as they say.

From Jerry Brown in a Colorado Community College years ago to Ron Paul on the University of California – Berkeley grounds in 2012  (I was there as an observer, more for entertainment than support; please see ), to actually caring enough as a 20-30 something to follow presidential politics and watch these paper puppet$ fight for slices of a pie. I got so pissed off I was a libertarian for a while. That didn’t last… once I really thought about it.

Now I have seen Bernie Sanders.   And I have a good feeling about this man.

We made our way to Bernie’s rally in Boulder on 10/10/2015, after securing tickets from a campaign volunteer my wife knows.  Traffic was heavy but we got lucky and scored a shady parking spot nearby. We made our way to the gates, met up with our friend, gave her a ticket, and went in.  That was …. interesting.

As we went through security to the event with our locally released only limited issue tickets, the “guard” asked “Kristin” (not her real name – this si my old friend) …asked her to open her purse as a check for weapons etc..and then asked what was “in that container…” – “Is it marijuana?” He asked casually.

Those words that would mean jail time a few years back. but.. Colorado, you know? 2015. So, he really didn’t need to ask. It was clearly labeled as such, with a tax stamp and everything.

“Yes, it is. It’s medical, here’s my card.” She says, opening her wallet to show a green cross card.

“OK, go on in.”

Times are changing.

So there I was with my wife and an old friend from my dangerous years, sitting in a crowd of at least 9,000 people, on the deep soft turf of the center lawn of Potts Field, East Campus, University of Colorado, Boulder – my Alma Mater, BTW, 1999 grad. – on a bright warm Saturday afternoon. October 10, 2015. My how things have changed.

So the crowd kept coming, pouring in like a slow stampede. We bought t-shirts, got free bumper stickers, and jockeyed for position to see the stage. The rather short stage. Bad ass sound system, through, fit a for a rock concert. Flat field. Not a venue for short people to see the guest of honor in what quickly became standing room only. We were somewhere in the middle, and I couldn’t see the edge of the crowd, even being slightly above average height wise. My.. vertically challenged wife had no nope hope beyond a lucky peek through the crowd.

The crowd. Not just students by a LONG shot. The slightly-older-than-us couple behind us looked like they walked over from their porch on a lazy afternoon, smelled of beer, but looked quite happy. Next to us, three (four? one left) most-likely-freshmen girls with a dude who must have been one of their fathers. Smiling and happy, girls all seated on the grass in a circle on some sort of media streaming the speech they were too short to see. Next to us, a young Hispanic couple, a group of frat boys all in Bernie t-shirts a size too small (they ran out of “Large” – I feel your problem dudes, the shirt I got is kinda small), a circle of aging hippies dancing to the music with their eyes blissfully closed, a gang of spandex clad bikers, sans bikes who really should have taken off their helmets – blocking sight, you know? And dozens and dozens of ordinary people in sunglasses, t-shirts, water bottles, smartphones, some alone, some on twos, small groups… honestly if felt like a music festival, atmosphere wise. Who ever was DJing the pre-speech music was making people dance. 🙂

And moving through the crowd slowly, several people with cameras with optics good enough to get good shots from this far from the stage. Like me. Yeah, camera phones are handy, but it hard to beat a 20x optical zoom on a 16 MP Canon DSLR.

So I got to see him speak. Got to look in his eyes. I saw an old man. An angry man. A old, fierce warrior, but a warrior proven in battle and old enough that if he put away his sword and shield no one would question. A grandfather. But… more warrior, more knight than elderly statesman. He never unbuckled that sword, his shield he carries with him daily. Still fights every  day for what is right and just. Still fierce and dangerous. Saying what no one has had the guts to stand up and say. He’s been doing it for years, and I think part of the look in his eyes is the look of a man who is sad that it took this long for people to listen. That, as his age, he has to lead his government away from the madness that should be painfully clear we are steaming toward, like some mad runaway train. So he takes a deep breath, forgets his age, and bellows in rage.

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I feel it, too. It’s why I took to the streets with Occupy and Anonymous. (..And why I still do.)

There is something rotten in the state of Denmark. (ed: HAMLET QUOTE – Shakespeare…. arr  gg)
I’ve smelled it for years.

Bernie smells it too.

From Citizens United and Super PACs buying our elections, partisan politics producing nothing solutions, to the military industrial complex having a strangle hold on foreign policy, media controlled by a third shadow power, to trade laws and patent laws that only help shareholders, to Big Pharma, big agriculture the EPA and the FDA all trading people and favors, the federal reserve and our love affair with Wall Street that only helps the 1%, to the insanity that the Tea Party has tap danced into.. to the Evangelical right and the bigotry they show and how it’s being used to pit american against american…I could go on. The police.  The drug war.  Private prisons.  And on. And on.

But – it all fits. He’s right. If we don’t do SOMETHING we are not going to leave this world a better place. It’s time for a socio-political revolution. The revolution won’t be televised. That battle has been lost. But we are legion. We have the internet, we have millions of cameras, millions of facebook, youtube, instragram, etc account.  Boots on the ground. Each of us is a point of contact with people every day who are being slowly crushed by what our country is becoming.  We can fight the money, fight that corruption, with our own hands, our own energy.  Too long we have just sat back and taken it.

I won’t take it anymore. Now I have an ally in someone with the potential to be the most influential man on Earth; he sees what I see. It’s time for Team Bernie to rise. I fund his campaign.  Only politician in my entire life I have given money to fund a campaign.  He’s earned it, he deserves it, and America deserves Bernie Sanders.

I #FeelTheBern. I have said it before, I am saying it again. I want Bernie Sanders to be the next President of the United States of America.

Think about it.