Listen, I know it’s been quiet around here lately. I have a couple articles on deck that I need to publish, but who has the attention span for TV criticism right now? Not this bitch. It’s been hard to be productive or even vaguely inspired in the absolutely batshit months leading up to this week, leading up to this eve of the day in which We The People will make a final determination on who, really, is the lesser of two evil grandpas. We’ll do this using not our popular vote but relying on an electoral college that, like most of our majority white, geriatric government, no longer reflects the will or diversity of the people it represents.
My entree into electoral fuckery was Bush v Gore, so in some ways, my tenure as a voter has been leading me to this final affirmation of just how meaningless my vote might or might not be. I’ve witnessed a lot of history, but time in America is also a flat circle. None of where we’re at today is surprising to me, not even the orange gibbon who currently flings his shit at the walls of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. I didn’t vote for Bush and I protested him. I voted for Obama and I protested him, too. I’ve thrown votes away and I’ve spent them wisely. I’ve sent dignified letters to elected officials and I’ve formed human chains with strangers. I’ve given time, I’ve given signatures, I’ve given money. I’ve reached out to “swing voters”; I’ve stood in solidarity with those who refuse to participate. I’ve seen incredible things happen, I’ve seen terrible shit go down.
I have a bottle of wine that’s technically sparkling but is by no means the good shit, and it’s in my wine rack but it’s certainly not going to be chilled anytime soon. It’s gonna be a big week for the Ayatollah, is what I’m saying. I’ve written about this moment before. I’ve locked myself off Twitter and pre-rolled my jazz cigarettes. I’ve got my vitamins portioned to keep a steady dose of B12 coursing through my hardening arteries. I don’t plan to listen to anything heavier than a D’Angelo record. I’m keeping my friends close and my enemies left on read. Although that’s most days for me, to be honest.
Either this will just be another in a series of bumpy rides, or I’ll be posting my next update from Guantanamo after freshly minted Interior Minister Bill Barr does his year-end Antifa roundup.
This is, after all, a blog for the end times. I gotta keep the people informed.
(You’ll want headphones for this one, the sound guy at the Paradiso knew what the fuck he was doing.)