Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Election Day: Another Rove yawner?
I wasn't going to blog today. With fingernails gone, I'm now down to gnawing off my fingers in anticipation of election day results. See, I still harbor some Pollyannish glimmer of hope there might still occur in my lifetime a quasi-honest election in this, one of the world's most farcical of all self-proclaimed "democracies."
But I just came from Enigma's Watergate Summer blog after leaving a comment. Feeling impassioned still, I'm going to just paste it here in a slightly streamlined version. (But thanks Enigma for inspiring this.)
Every election I vow to my wife, "That's the last fucking election I'll ever vote in." She knows I'm a damn liar. But when your Green candidate is forbidden to debate against his democratic and republican opponents, when your district's been gerrymandered so if you vote democrat and every registered democrat in your precinct votes, it doesn't fucking matter, you lose anyway, because some fucking opposition party member drew up district's boundaries so you can't win, and if it's a presidential election and your state votes a winner, the electoral college can override the vox populi and cast their votes for the loser making him the winner, voting--well--leaves a really bad fucking taste in my mouth. So, once more I went out and violated my oath and voted.
And when I returned home to my "early voted" wife I once more vowed, "That's the last fucking election I'll ever vote in." And I'm not even poor (but may be soon) Black, Hispanic or redhead. (That last one was an empathy comment for Enigma whose votes are never counted.)
And then I heard Jimmy Carter remind us this weekend why the U.S. doesn't even qualify to have observers oversee the election process: It doesn't meet, or violates, conditions necessary for fair elections.
And there, that's why I hate to vote. And I stated all my reasons without one mention of those damn, fucking Diebold, Sequoia, or ES&S voting machines which, when all else fails in procuring victory for the despots, act as a kind of kinky insurance policy.
But this has been a nice break from my task this afternoon. Back to the hard work in the backyard. See, I'm melting down my plowshares. (Thanks Meldonna for the idea. The time for votes not being counted is over.)