Friday, November 4, 2016

VOTE, Mofos.

As you might have heard, there's an election in four days.

I actually voted earlier this week. It's the first time I've ever voted early, partly because I like the tradition of voting on Election Day and partly because I can never get my shit together enough to get to the polls during early voting.

But this year, as (again) you might have heard, is different.

I felt compelled to get my ballot cast before November 8th. You know how sometimes a random irrational thought will become lodged in your brain crannies, and not only will it not leave but it actually begins to interfere with the other, rational thoughts in your head until it drowns them out and takes control?

That's been happening to me.

Maybe it's just me. But still.

Several days ago, I became obsessed with the thought that I might get hit by a bus or a bunch of motorcyclists or a fucking a-hole Tesla driver and not be able to cast my critical vote next Tuesday.

On Tuesday of this week (I think it was Tuesday, it might have been Wednesday, don't judge I'm a working single mom I'm lucky I even know it's an election year), I found a blissfully sleepy early voting location just a couple of blocks from my home and voted. You guys, this location had a bell for first-time voters to ring as they left the building. How effing awesome is that?

Anyway, I showed my ID (a whole nother topic), was escorted to a voting machine by a very sweet and helpful older lady, and fucking voted, all in a five-minute span.


Because I actually parked in the wrong place, it took me longer to walk to the early voting building than it took me to vote.

I'm a middle-aged female type, yet I had no problem with the touch-screen computerized voting machine, nor did the older lady who explained in great detail how it operated, nor did the young Latina woman who was there when I arrived or the white dude who came in shortly before I left.

Pretty sure there was no fraud or other shenanigans happening at my polling place due to evil, evil machines and/or opposition operatives.

I got my coveted "I Voted" sticker, which I affixed to my chin and then took a selfie for my IRL Facebook page (find me, you guys, it's not hard). And then I went home. Democracy: Accomplished.

My election anxiety has decreased substantially since then, you guys.


What if  I had a heart attack prior to November 8 and didn't get to vote?

What if space aliens landed and convinced me to vote for Trump prior to November 8?

What if I suffered a traumatic head injury and decided I was a lifelong Republican prior to November 8?

What if Hillary Clinton admitted to being...I don't know...a baby-killing racist homophobic Klan member just a few hours before the polls closed?

I'm just glad I already discharged my democratic duty to VOTE, you guys.

If you haven't already, Drunkards, be sure to VOTE.

Your particular choices are less important than that you chose to participate. I promise.

Vote, Godammit.

Have a share in the credit/blame for what happens November 8th.

Be that brave.

Thanks, America.


  1. The third-last sentence is actually what prevented me from voting in 2012. I felt partly to blame for what had happened from 2008-2012: just as many civilians were being killed by the American military, except it was drones doing it now instead of boots on the ground, and I didn't feel comfortable playing even a small part in making that happen.

    I know that McCain would have done a lot worse, but still.

    There was also Obama telling the people who engaged in torture at Guantanamo and Baghram and other prisons "Hey, don't worry about it, you were just following orders, we'll make sure you aren't prosecuted." Which was the exact opposite of what liberals wanted.

    I have other issues too, but I won't make a big, long list. I acknowledge that there were improvements, like health care reform (even if single-payer still isn't a reality) and same-sex marriage becoming legal, but it felt hollow. Because the single biggest thing I care about--the thing that shocked me into following politics in the first place, back in 2003--is America's foreign policy.

    So because of all that, and also because I was certain Romney didn't have a chance, and finally because my absentee ballot is for the very blue state of New Jersey, I sat the last election out.

    This year I'm voting third party. Which, fine, people want to tell me I'm throwing my vote away, but for me it's a choice between that or not voting at all.

    A lot has been made of Trump's anti-Muslim rhetoric, btw, because it IS despicable. That said, while Clinton hasn't demonized Muslims like that, most of the Muslims I've seen tweeting about this election are not thrilled with her. They're either voting third party or voting for Clinton reluctantly. This is because of her foreign policy, which in the past has involved her pushing for military strikes in majority Muslim nations, which has resulted in lots of Muslims being killed. Even the father of that Muslim soldier who spoke at the convention said something to that effect in an interview afterwards.

    And she wants to keep doing that. So I sympathize with Muslims for feeling like they're between a rock and a hard place. As one I know put it: best case is that they're allowed into the country, but the U.S. keeps killing them in other countries.

  2. I voted and feel pretty good about it even though I never feel like my vote counts. I live in a county that goes against the prevailing tide of the rest of the state so it always feels like I'm quietly saying, "I'm not with them."
    The one thing I've considered in hopes of changing that, or at least feeling like I'm making a greater contribution, is finding a candidate I like and volunteering for them, but I'm deeply cynical and afraid of staring into that abyss.


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