So I started this rather involved and more than a little lame post about Oregon’s Vote by Mail system and the Republican idiots who are trying to subvert it. But really, there’s no point. It doesn't stand a chance in hell of standing up in court. And I don’t think it will intimidate a single soul from voting. So fine – let them throw some more $$ down this particular rabbit hole. I refuse to waste another gram of outrage over it.
I can’t wait for this election to be over. Some people really do get all excited over the prospect of a heated political battle. To them, elections are fun! And this one only more so! Not me. I just get shell-shocked. Involved, sure – but mostly out of desperation and fear. Not for love of the battle itself. I just feel it’s my responsibility, and an honor really to get informed and involved in helping to make this world a better place. The whole “be a part of the solution, not a part of the problem” thing. It helps my mental health to channel my outrage into personal action. Every time my dittohead coworkers go off on one of their tirades about the very ideals that I hold dear, or defend the idiocy of the Republicans, I can either respond and bang my head against a brick wall for a few hours or I can channel that frustration into productive action and actually DO something that might, in the real world – start tearing down that brick wall of bullheaded opposition. So that’s what I’ve chosen to do.
But still, I am sooo ready for a break. I’m ready to sit back with my tub of popcorn and watch the results come in, like a movie. Ready to cringe with my head turned against Curt's shoulder if it begins to look like one of the really baaad horror flicks where the victim is running *alone* down the dark hall to check out that strange noise. Or ready to cheer at a smarmy, cheesy action flick when the good guys win in the end, against all odds - and none of the main characters died tragically in the process.
I'm really hoping for the latter case scenario. In my mind I'm visualizing that scene in Independence Day where Wil Smith's girlfriend makes it into the utility closet in the tunnel ahead of the molten inferno that has become downtown L.A. with her son, and calls the dog ( a yellow lab).... and the dog comes running and jumping over the stranded cars and, and and..... launches through the doorway right as the leading waves of fire singe his little tailhairs. Yeah, like that.....
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