Tragic Waste

So the actual polling booths have opened. The lambs crowd down the chute toward their rendezvous with a plate and some mint jelly.

Here’s a safe prediction:  by tomorrow a devout fascist will have been elected president.

Because that’s all that’s running. Of the two who have a chance, anyway.

Much may be made of election shenanigans: “rigged” votes, “stolen” votes. No doubt they’ll happen; and no doubt fraudulent accusations will be made. It’s crooks squabbling over the proceeds of crime. What different should we expect?

The national elections are a lot like the World Series:  there’s vast money and perqs riding on the outcome, serious enough that people will kill and die over it; and you have no influence over the outcome, and the outcome means nothing practical for you.

Of course the elections are rigged. Long before the herd gets allowed to make its hoofmarks on ballots. Because by the time a candidate is anointed by one of the allegedly distinct parties, they’ve already been thoroughly vetted by the people who really rule us, whoever they may be. It literally doesn’t matter to them who gets elected.

Either way, they win.

Guess who loses.

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