I voted early because I’m moving on the 3rd, but the guilt showed up right on time. With every selection — for Coroner or President or Circuit Court Judge — I quietly mumbled ‘forgive me’. I was talking to my grandfather, who was spinning in his grave.
See, I didn’t vote Republican. I just couldn’t, I have a conscience. And now it’s at war with itself thanks to this stoopid, stoopid election.
Frankly, I loathe politics. In the old days, I didn’t have to think about them. That was the nice thing about America; you didn’t worry about the government. It was big and powerful, run by professional politicians who did your bidding for you.
Politicians who were smarmy and unctuous, sure, but they spoke with civility and reason and restraint. They relied on logic to persuade constituents and shoveled on the charm while they were at it, glad-handing and backslapping, drooling over babies. Those qualities seem almost quaint in this noxious garbage fire of an election, although politics has been headed this direction for a long time. But I sorely miss the stodginess and the stilted dignity, it was very reassuring.
The voters have changed, too. We used to be decent, stouthearted folks who just wanted to do the right thing for our country and our families. Now, we’re under siege, bombarded with threats framed in doomsday rhetoric and warned of looming Armageddons. We get the crap scared out of us on a daily basis. As a result, we’ve become a fearful, suspicious nation; no longer the land of the brave.
We’re losing the old American spirit to a whole new breed of terrorists — shameless fearmongers like Donald Trump. And I’ve had enough. So, for my own peace of mind, I voted for a damn Democrat and, looky there, I survived. Shoot, I could’ve voted Libertarian or Green Party or Lizard People and lived with myself okay.
Voting Republican, that’s what I couldn’t justify. Um, forgive me.
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