Not Ashamed

Nano update: so far so good, as of yesterday I was even a little ahead of where I needed to be.  But today there's a bit of writer's block going, and I'm pretty sure it's partially rant induced, so I'm getting it out.  (you know my motto - blogging is cheaper than therapy.  plus I'm not sure this quite qualifies as needing therapy.)  At the moment I haven't even decided if this post will ever even see the light of day . . .

Anyway.


I didn't vote yesterday.  I didn't vote early.  I didn't vote at all.

It's not because I don't care.  It's not that I didn't know who to vote for.  It's not even because I didn't want to.  (okay, it kind of is that last one.  a little.)

It's because there is absolutely nothing in the world more pointless than voting in Utah.

Nothing.

I know I'm far from the first person to rant about the electoral college and it's uselessness and the way it nullifies more than half the votes cast . . . but it really drives me nuts to think that such an archaic, deliberately biased system is still in place.

I mean, think about it.  In a rational world, a world where American politicians elected to offices higher than, oh, mayor-ish were capable of thinking of anything other than themselves it would work like this (metaphorically speaking): everyone would get a card.  Red or blue.  Or green or orange or pink because in this world those other cards would actually be relevant.  You pick the color you want and you send it to Washington DC and it's put in a stack with all the other cards of that color.  And in the end whoever has the tallest stack of cards wins.  152 red cards?  Awesome.  153 blue cards?  You lose, red.  Every vote counts, every single solitary card makes a difference because it contributes to the whole stack.

But instead we have this -

Every state gets a bucket of water.  Every person gets to put one drop of food coloring in the water, red or blue.  In the end, some buckets are deep crimson or sapphire.  Some buckets are decidedly fuchsia or plum shaded.  But there are only two trucks to load the buckets in, so a fuchsia bucket get put in the same truck as a crimson one, and a plum buckets goes with the sapphires.  49 blue drops and 51 red drops?  Is the exact equivalent as 100 red drops.

Seriously, how does anyone actually believe their individual vote matters?

I mean, sure, in some states you are going to have a very purple shade, and in that case your one drop might just make the difference between fuchsia and plum . . . but then there's Utah, and all the other states like it.  The states that get 99 red (or blue) drops.  And I'm supposed to believe that my one red drop will make the bucket any more crimson?  Or that my one blue drop will give it even the slightest hint of purple-ish-ness?  No.  It doesn't.  Even a toddler could see that.  So what's the point?

(this is the point where people with jump in with "but the local races!!!!!!!!" which in some places might strike me as a valid argument.  but here . . . I don't see my vote making any difference in those races either)

It's twenty-freaking-twelve.  How is this possible?  Four years ago I was blown away by all the presidential commercials I was seeing on tv.  I'd never seen one before.  I was twenty-four years old and I honestly hadn't even known they existed before that year.  I don't remember what I thought, you hear all the talk about having to give candidates equal airtime and regulations and whatever, and I guess I just figured commercials weren't allowed for presidential candidates because they got all the air time on the news and such.

And then this year.  Not in Florida anymore, something seemed off for the longest time and I couldn't place it until a couple of months ago.  The commercials were gone.  Not a single presidential commercial to be seen.  Anywhere.  Meanwhile, today is the first day in who knows how many months that people in Ohio have seen a commercial that wasn't political.  And I'm supposed to think this is okay?  I don't think so. 

And then there was watching the results come in last night.  Which I'd never done before, but Luke wanted to so we made pizza-and-a-movie night into pizza-and-the-news night.  Going in I did have a bit of a clue what was going on, in fact I'd heard on the radio yesterday morning that Ohio, Virginia, and Florida were the keys and if Romney didn't get at least one of them he didn't have a prayer.  So we're watching, and none of those three have come in and then all the sudden Ohio comes in and somehow it's all over and done with and I'm like "wait a second, he could still get one of the others" but no, apparently they didn't actually matter either.  I mean, they hadn't even finished counting . . . even in those states that just twelve hours ago had been so critical.  The votes in those states could literally not have been counted and it wouldn't have changed a thing - and they're supposed to be the ones who count the most!  (and let's just ignore the hypocrisy in the fact that a statement like that could even exist in a country that supposedly believes "all men are created equal.")

Of course, there's also the part where the polls weren't even closed in Alaska and Hawaii when the whole thing was declared officially over.  So, you know, go on home guys.  It's not like we need you or anything, you know?  We're not waiting until it's 5:00 in the morning in New York to find out who wins!

Someday, heaven willing, we want to live in a state where it's a matter of a fuchsia bucket versus a plum bucket, rather than crimson versus sapphire.  Then?  I will vote, and gladly.  Until then . . . I see no point.


P. ost  S. cript
I decided to go ahead and hit that orange button . . . so here's a palate cleanser before you all tell me what a terrible person I am.  (fun fact: I have actually met a slightly disturbing number of people with these very names!)