Again this election year, the best viable contender for President may be “None of the Above.” Come November, I will probably vote Libertarian. I refuse to go on holding my nose and voting for stinkers.
In America, we are so sports-obsessed that we see everything as a game. But the choice of the most powerful human being on earth is anything but a game. It is a deadly serious business. The kids should stay home and let the grownups handle it.
Your vote counts, and so does mine. This is true not only if we pick a winner, but if we bother to vote at all. In this technologically-sophisticated age, every vote is not only tabulated but studied — analyzed down to the most minute detail. Your vote is your voice, and if you vote, your voice will be heard.
If I were to vote as a baseball fan, not only for who will play in the All Star Game but for how the teams would finish the season, my Diamondbacks would be World Series champs, the Twins runners-up and the Cubs would come in third. The Yankees would always end up dead last, with the Dodgers only slightly ahead of them. But sports don’t work that way. Maybe political elections should, but even though our system isn’t set up for them to work that way, in a very real sense they do. As voters, every aspect of our choice is duly noted and registered as a matter of permanent record.
So please vote. Vote early, and often. If you live in Chicago, and you’re dead, there’s no reason even to let that stop you. If you’re from the Planet Neptune and you want to vote for President Obama, the Democrats will undoubtedly find some way to let you do it. But never let it be said that your vote will not count — or that, if you do show up at the polls, your voice will not be heard.
If I vote for the Libertarian candidate for President this year, my guy will not win. But if enough people vote for him, it will mean something. I chose Ron Paul in the Republican primary, even though I’m not sure why — as I am now a registered Libertarian Party member — I was sent a mail-in ballot. I was never under any illusion that Dr. Paul would win, but I chose, this time, to vote without holding my nose.
Upon much reflection, and after several months of having watched both make utter asshats of themselves, I have decided I’d probably rather write-in the Diamondbacks (any or all of them) this year than pull the lever for either Ken-Doll Romney or his rival, the sanctimonious Santorum.
Diamondbacks may be snakes, but at least snakes don’t stink.