In the forty-three years I've been eligible to vote in presidential elections, I've worked as a volunteer in seven presidential campaigns. In that same period I've worked for over two score candidates for local and state elected posts. In the past, I was an enthusiastic member of my party. I paid my dues. I felt my voice mattered and my vote counted.
In this election cycle, I was faced with a "choice" between the Republican nominee and the incumbent, Democratic President. I cannot support either, so I changed my party affiliation. Now I'm working for a man who I know to be superior in every way to either the Republican or Democratic candidates. But there is no way in hell that my guy will get enough votes to matter.
Like so many things in my life, what I feel so deeply about this election simply doesn't matter.
You stupid fuckers are going to elect one of these insane bastards, and I'm going to suffer through four more years of unending dipshittery; and, if Romney is elected, there will be more war. More kids will die for no reason other than Romney needs to prove his manhood. Plus, he's got to keep the arms dealers in business; they are America's one great growth industry.
In the past, regardless of who got elected, I could at least say that, in four or eight years, that asshole would go away and some other asshole would take his place.
You know, and I know, and everyone else in the US knows the Republicans and the Democrats are the same people; there ain't an ounce of difference between them and their politics. They take turns fucking us. And we let them. We ask for more!
It is my belief that all these politicians are cloned in some laboratory in Wyoming or Idaho, somewhere way the fuck out there where men are men and sheep are scared.
In these private labs (they might even be in Utah), the genetic material of Rutherford B. Hayes is constantly diddled with then injected into some kind of female egg; and then the spawn is grown to adulthood, in about six to eight weeks; then the clone is quietly educated and given all the background stuff needed to get them past reporters and security checks; and then they are run for office.
I didn't know that for sure until last week when one of the presidential hopefuls came up to me on the street and shook my hand. I'm not saying which one it was (Romney), but the son of a bitch, called me by name; told me the names of every woman I ever fucked; told me how good they were in bed; said how I cheated on my income tax in 81, 84, 86, 92, 2000, and 2009; he even knew I had the hots for my boss.
We are well and truly fucked. But we like it. We aren't going to change it. It doesn't matter that we know. They know we know. We know they know we know.
So, get out there and vote the first Tuesday in November. Your one vote can make all the difference depending upon whether you want to be hosed by a white Mormon, or a Black Muslim.