It is a fine thing to use this thing we call blog to attempt cogent analysis (i.e., shit the bed), or to promote one's choice of candidates, or even to point out the many foibles of the lampshade-makers, macaca-haters, and emasculated Hilaryphobes (reminder: Punch Tucker Carlson In The Fucking Gob) on the other side of the aisle. These are legitimate purposes, respectful of the muse. But the second you start popping off about your predictive powers, and the bad things that will happen to lampshade-makers, macaca-haters, and emasculated Hilaryphobes (I mean, seriously, what the fuck is Tucker Carlson doing calling any other human on this planet a "wussy"?) come January 3 as a result of the stunning landslide the forces of righteousness are certain to enjoy, you are forfeiting your license to make shit up and post it on the Internets, and probably fucking up waves well outside the envelope of your own karma.
Let's remember some key facts:
- In My Local State, we haven't even had our fucking primaries yet, and we won't until September 13. I haven't had time or inclination or information to figure out who's worthy of Trotskysmack, and I know they're out there. I have particular problems in My Local State; while I've decided conclusively who I'll vote for in the Senate primary (Ben Cardin, because a vote for Kweisi Mfume in the primary is a vote to send Michael-Tom Steele-Uncle to the U.S. Senate in November), I'm in that legislative district--in fact, in the very housing development--where that whackjob picketed some Muslim legislative candidate's home to protest his Muslimness, and while a vote for that is a vote for hate, a vote against it is a vote for a guy who seems basically okay but whose campaign literature ignores his religion and strongly implies, through endorsements and a listing of community activities, that he's a Christian. And the three incumbent Dems are pretty much entrenched wankers. And I got other primary problems. I'm gonna have to go ask Sasha how to vote for some stuff. And oh, sweet Jesus H. Tittyfucking Christ on a Wobbly Crutch, I have children! I fucking have to take school board races seriously! This totally bites.
- Voters are fickle bitches. Connecticut--and the stench of punditry and other disingenuousness coming from Connecticut alone would gag a rat--is a great illustration, what with the vacillating fortunes of Lamont and Joey Me. They're up, they're down, they're all around, black is white, Democrat is Republican, Mary Landrieu and Mike Pryor are assclowns who should be expelled from the party, and it's all making my head hurt. But the point--the point is that we have no idea what depths Joey Me can sink to over the course of 11 weeks. His funding isn't dried up--he's being funded by Republicans, you fucking morons! His imagination, and his willingness to spelunk in the sewers of hypocrisy and dishonesty, are not fully tested. Sure, it's a blessing that he's incompetent. But this is a wily incumbent. It ain't over.
- Speaking of which, polls lie, and so do the people who give answers for them. A two-point Democratic advantage in the generic congressional poll translates to: NOTHING. Republicans, especially, lie like hell to pollsters. Pay no heed, and don't fucking waste my time blogging about poll results.
- Karl Rove.
In short: shut the fuck up. Vote. Cower in your home on Election Night and wait for the boom to drop or the ball of enlightenment to rise. But right now? Shut the fuck up. No one has a clue what's to pass, and eleven weeks is a lot of time for treachery to triumph.