Our political season drags on. The candidates have crawled from the protective harbors of self-respect their mothers deposited them in as eggs. Like little turtles and tortoises blinking reflexively into the sunlight they wander toward the surf trying to become influential in an ocean far larger than they imagined. They’ve all of the appearances of their mothers and fathers: a shell appearing similar to mom and dad’s, an ability to retract their arms, legs and heads into the shell for protection and the natural coloration could serve them in good stead while swimming about in search of sustenance.
