I’ve been telling people it seems like this election will never be over, or like the world will end on Tuesday because it’s so hard to make plans until we know IF THE WORLD IS GOING TO END. I have major life decisions to make this week and I keep thinking, “Well, maybe I should just hold off in case it all burns right down.”
I’m not going to come here today and make the case for Hillary, or against Trump, because what would be the point? We’ve talked about both of them for hours and hours. There’s nothing I can tell you that would be new to you about either of them.
I want to make the case for somebody else.
Us.
There’s been entirely too much talk about the candidates this election season. Of COURSE I have a favorite, and hint hint, it’s not the minority-bashing sex predator with no policies, no plans, and no ability to listen to anyone but the high-as-balls carousel horses in his head.
But this isn’t about deciding which candidate you like the best, not this time, not in this election. It’s about deciding who we want to be.
On Tuesday, we’re not making a choice about Hillary versus Trump. That’s ridiculous. We’re making a choice about us. About whether we’re bullies who hate minorities for existing, who hate women with brains and ambition, who hate anyone who worships a different god, who hate that life is changing and don’t trust that they can keep up, who hate poor kids in poorer schools and everybody on food stamps and anybody who got screwed over by something they couldn’t control.
It’s about whether we turn our anger outward and break shit, or accept that we have work to do, and do it.
“But but but … e-mails! Corruption!” Yup.
“But but but … centrism! Hawkishness! Triangulation!” That too.
But but but … I DON’T ACCEPT HE HIT ME FIRST FROM A PRESCHOOLER AND I WON’T ACCEPT IT FROM AMERICA.
We’ve got the candidates we’ve got, even batshit Jill Stein and dumbass Gary Johnson. This is no longer about them.
They’ve done what they’re going to do by this point. This is about what we do with the power we have, all of us.
We have the power to stand up one by one and say, not me.
I’m not afraid.
I’m not a bully.
I’m not going to be cowed by an unhinged monster who screams white power slogans and chuckles through calls for his opponent to be executed and pretends he’s too dumb to know better.
I’m not going to sign on to an ideology based entirely on wanting to say “fuck you” to everything that bothers me.
I believe we can, because I’ve seen grace and kindness in this election. I’ve seen generosity, courage, warmth. I’ve seen people who shouldn’t have to stand up stand right up, and that’s never wasted, never. I’ve seen people wait in line for hours, fight like dogs, to get the chance just to vote. I’ve seen people having tough conversations with people they love: Don’t do this, if you love me back. People have walked and talked and worked and phone-banked and driven people to the polls and written letters and given money.
In the end, all we are responsible for is our own vote. One by one. Ourselves, alone, with the pen and the ballot. That’s the only weight we carry now. That’s what we have to do. That’s what’s on us, no matter what anyone has or hasn’t said.
That’s the decision in this election. Who are we?
I don’t think we’re bullies. I don’t think we’re afraid. I don’t think we’re mean and hopeless and unkind to one another. I don’t think we’re really hungering for a loud voice to tell us to sit down and shut up while he fixes everything.
May it please your honor, I shall never pay a dollar of your unjust penalty. All the stock in trade I possess is a $10,000 debt, incurred by publishing my paper—The Revolution—four years ago, the sole object of which was to educate all women to do precisely as I have done, rebel against your man-made, unjust, unconstitutional forms of law, that tax, fine, imprison and hang women, while they deny them the right of representation in the government; and I shall work on with might and main to pay every dollar of that honest debt, but not a penny shall go to this unjust claim. And I shall earnestly and persistently continue to urge all women to the practical recognition of the old revolutionary maxim, that “Resistance to tyranny is obedience to God.”
I think we’re this:
I think we’re this:
I think on Wednesday morning, that is who we’ll decide to be.
A.
I don’t think I’ve ever been concerned more about an election. In my head, I say she will win, how could she not? Then I think about 2000 and more importantly 2004 and realize it’s quite possible she could lose.
I’m totally disgusted with this election. The false equivalence, the outright lies, the perpetuation of bullshit that is apparently OK because it’s an election and freedom of speech.
When Obama won, twice, those old white folks got scared. First, a black man was running the country and we were doomed and second and most importantly, that a shitload of people voted for the black guy. Now it’s a woman and they see the whole scenario playing out again. Their fear of being the minority and being treated like they’ve treated minorities their whole life is their only motivating factor. If we thought they brought obstruction in government to a whole new level with Obama, wait until we see what they have in store for her. They would rather hold the country back, then move forward toward the demise of their overlord status.
Fuck them.
I’ll be here on Tues nite with snacks and drinks.
I’ll hope against hope that some of the 59 million idiots who kept GWB in office have smartened up.
I’ll hold my breath (periodically) and cross my fingers.
I am not an optimist. Not in my nature. Never has been. Fortunately, I have Athenae for that.
This is one of the most inspiring columns I’ve ever read. I’m posting a link on my Facebook page NOW.
Amen from a devout agnostic.
Let’s say I am restocking the liquor cabinet just in case.