Yay! It’s SuperSize Me Tuesday! A chance for almost half the people in the country to choose the delegates who may or may not go to a state convention, and may or may not relay their choice to the state party mechanism (possibly apportioned by the percentage of votes captured, unless it’s winner-take-all), which may or may not endorse those choices at the national convention, as long as there’s no deadlock in the nomination or some super-delegates don’t override it! Yay! Go Democracy!
(An aside: One idea for increasing voter turnout that has been floated for years is to hold elections on Saturday or Sunday. Wouldn’t that be great? People could throw parties just like for the Super Bowl, go out voting with their friends and relatives, then go home and watch the election results on CNN. Just like Super Sunday! Or else they could sleep in, putter around the house, and watch “American Idol” marathons like they do the rest of the year. Maybe the promise of alcohol would make it work. It might have caused trouble for Andrew Jackson, but today we have designated drivers and near-beer, right?)
I have reached a milestone that should send a shiver through any progressive person, or anyone under 75: I am actually agreeing with the slate chosen by the Chicago Tribune. All except President, that is. Still not sure about that contest, but I agree with their picks for every state and county official this year. Frankly, I’m frightened. Does this mean I now have to harrumph and spit every time someone mentions FDR?
But I’m in the mood to throw out as many officials in Cook County as possible, after their shameless bullshit of trying to pass a sales tax increase that would give us the highest rate in the ENTIRE nation. So that patronage workers can get jobs sleeping in their vans in the forest preserves and sheriffs can pursue suspects from Berwyn into Hinsdale? Sorry, Big Head Todd Stroger and the Monsters will have to figure out another way to fulfill their contracts with Satan.
On the national level, though, I’m stumped. My cynicism runs so deep that if Mahatma Gandhi were running, I’d be skeptical that he was in league with the home weaving-industrial complex. Voting for personality over ideas makes me feel like we’re all in high school again (which we probably are, politics-wise), but with coverage the way it is, it’s almost inescapable. All of Hollywood loves Obama, which is reason enough to vote against him. Leading intellectuals can’t articulate why they don’t “like” Hillary, which is enough reason to vote for her.
(Many people voted for the Imbecile in Chief because they liked him, and that didn’t get us very far. I know many people I like whom I wouldn’t trust driving my car, let alone running the country. Come to think of it, Bush qualifies on both of those counts, too, except for me liking him.)
And for entertainment’s sake, I hope no one in either party gets a mandate from today’s votes. The longer they keep mixing it up, the better I like it (and Obama’s people can learn a few good vicious moves from Clinton’s that will come in handy in the months leading to November). Once a candidate pulls out in front, it’s all over but the snarling and leg-humping.
I vote for Michael Strahan! And Tom Petty! And that ugly chick from the commercial who rubs cashews all over herself! Yow! Talk about Likeability! Go Planters!