11.07.04: Election Reaction ‹ Blog

Whenever a fellow tells me he is bipartisan I know he is going to vote against me.
Harry S. Truman

Election Reaction

11.10.04

So. Here we are.

I haven’t written in here lately because I didn’t know what to say. After that long and increasingly depressing election night, after Kerry’s concession speech, after the political shows were over and the bloggers had turned to other things, I was still wandering around in a speechless daze. I feel like I’ve just woken up from some terrible nightmare, only to find that the nightmare is real. Inside, my soul looks like that figure from The Scream, only it’s wearing Goth make-up and cutting itself with razor blades because it’s even more depressed and confused than usual.

How could this happen? How could half of the country honestly believe that Bush is a decent leader? That man couldn’t lead a line of baby ducks down to a river, and I’m speaking objectively, I really am. Even if I were a die-hard Republican, I would have jumped ship on this administration long ago. And God knows John Kerry wasn’t my first choice for the Democratic candidate, but he would have been a hell of a lot better than the sniveling zealot we’re stuck with now.

Kerry supporters: You fought hard, and you done good. We almost made it. Now, group hug, and let’s all weep together.

Bush supporters: I’m going to make a rare sweeping generalization here and say that you’re all high on something. Whether it be religion, patriotism, or cocaine, your reality must have been seriously altered by some obsession or substance, or else you’d have seen what a mess Bush was making of our country.

Undecideds/Non-Voters: There is no single word in my infamously extensive vocabulary that can describe the disdain I feel for you. May your mother grow bald before her time; may the fleas of a thousand camels infest your armpits; may you be hit by a semi as you stand in the middle of the highway trying to decide which way to cross.

What really galls me about all this is that, according to the reports, my peers—people in my goddamn age group—didn’t turn out to vote. Seriously, I’m as lazy as any college-age bum you’re likely to meet, but I still managed to haul my fat ass down to the polling place to put in a good word for my candidate of choice. Is it really that hard, kids? My god, you fill in dozens of little ovals every few weeks or so for tests and exams; would it kill you to fill in just one more?

Well, those stupid, short-sighted kids will get theirs, in the end. Their tuition will go up, their grants will be cut, their boyfriends and siblings (and maybe even they themselves) will be drafted to fight in this war or some other ridiculous international to-do. And I don’t want to hear ANY COMPLAINTS from them. If you don’t vote, you have no right to complain when the wrong guy gets elected.

(Hmm. I should really stop complaining about Reuben Studdard, in that case.)