November 2, 2012

The deadline approaches

Heed the call!

Posted by Jeff G. @ 4:03pm
23 comments | Trackback

Comments (23)

  1. I’ve already voted. I could, I suppose, drag car pool people to the polls next Tuesday, but here in Tennessee we’re not even considered a battleground state. So, there’s nothing more I can do.

    This cake is already baked. All’s we can hope for is that the Baracky people just don’t have the enthusiasm to get out and vote. Will that happen? Will those who’ve already collected payment from King Belshazzar want to keep the spigot turned on, or will they just sit this one out?

    The character of this little Republic is being measured. “Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin”; will we, the collectivist majority of the USA, be found wanting? I think deep-down we all know the answer to that.

  2. I’ve been called twice by the state GOP GotV effort.

    Both times they’ve had who I am, what district I live in and where I go to vote wrong.

    I’ll vote on Tuesday

    —like, with few exceptions, we all ought to.

  3. I never answer my house phone, but we’ve been called three times at least.

    Anyway, we’re voting on Tuesday.

  4. House phone? What’n'hell’s a house phone? That little bitch was kicked to the curb months ago.

    Pollsters wept.

  5. Unlike the last 2,000 times I’ve seen one, this clip of Fast Times has no Phoebe Cates.

    Explain yourself, sir.

  6. Mrs. McG and me are going together on Tuesday to a little rural fire station with about 20 parking spaces on Tuesday to cast our ballots.

    Shouldn’t be there more than an hour — waiting to park.

  7. I love doing political polls. Especially when the pollsters have no more idea of where I live than the state GotV apparatus does.

    I’ve been polled four separate times for races in two different districts, neither of which is mine.

  8. I vote at an elementary school. Since I’m a guy I do my best to not look creepy, but I still will look creepy anyway, because as we all know all men are evil.

  9. I’m not sure where that came from.

  10. It was mannish and creepy, that’s for sure.

    I kid, I kid.

  11. Imagine how I feel. I vote at the county courthouse.

  12. I feel weird being there, I guess.

  13. You’re either there to vote or answer your restraining order, then.

  14. I was joking but I know what you’re talking about, cranky. (It’s strange that I say cranky rather than d. Weird.) I tutor high school kids in math and it was actually suggested that I have a chaperon for girls. This was for sessions that take place in the school library.

    Yikes. It freaked me out.

  15. Mannish and creepy.

  16. The chaperone is there to protect your virtue, seeing as those crazy teenage slnuts don’t have any.

  17. Thus the power structure, through the agency of those who carry out the sanctions, those anonymous components of the system, will spew the greengrocer from its mouth. The system, through its alienating presence in people, will punish him for his rebellion. It must do so because the logic of its automatism and self-defense dictate it. The greengrocer has not committed a simple, individual offense, isolated in its own uniqueness, but something incomparably more serious. By breaking the rules of the game, he has disrupted the game as such. He has exposed it as a mere game. He has shattered the world of appearances, the fundamental pillar of the system. He has upset the power structure by tearing apart what holds it together. He has demonstrated that living a lie is living a lie. He has broken through the exalted facade of the system and exposed the real, base foundations of power. He has said that the emperor is naked. And because the emperor is in fact naked, something extremely dangerous has happened: by his action, the greengrocer has addressed the world. He has enabled everyone to peer behind the curtain. He has shown everyone that it is possible to live within the truth. Living within the lie can constitute the system only if it is universal. The principle must embrace and permeate everything. There are no terms whatsoever on which it can co-exist with living within the truth, and therefore everyone who steps out of line denies it in principle and threatens it in its entirety. . . .

    {17}The original and most important sphere of activity, one that predetermines all the others, is simply an attempt to create and support the independent life of society as an articulated expression of living within the truth. In other words, serving truth consistently, purposefully, and articulately, and organizing this service. This is only natural, after all: if living within the truth is an elementary starting point for every attempt made by people to oppose the alienating pressure of the system, if it is the only meaningful basis of any independent act of political import, and if, ultimately, it is also the most intrinsic existential source of the “dissident” attitude, then it is difficult to imagine that even manifest “dissent” could have any other basis than the service of truth, the truthful life, and the attempt to make room for the genuine aims of life.

  18. Before we moved our polling place was an elementary school. As near as I could tell they take all the kids into an underground bunker on Election Day.

    Not that I look for kids, but if any were ever in evidence I’m sure I would be yelling at them reflexively to get off my lawn.

  19. That’s what my little sister said, Ernst. I get it from that angle. Hate it but get it.

    Just makes me want to live in a previous century. When medicinal opium tinctures were legal to treat this nagging cough of mine while I read a serialized story about outlaws west of the Mississippi.

  20. OT, here’s a bit of Jeff bait: An unselfaware Peggy Noonan begging for a cockslapping:

    Why did the president make such mistakes? Why did he make decisions that seemed so unknowing, and not only in retrospect?

    Because he had so much confidence, he thought whatever he did would work. He thought he had “a gift,” as he is said to have told Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid. He thought he had a special ability to sway the American people, or so he suggested to House Speaker John Boehner and Majority Leader Eric Cantor.

    But whenever he went over the heads of the media and Congress and went to the people, in prime-time addresses, it didn’t really work. He did not have a magical ability to sway. And—oddly—he didn’t seem to notice.

    It is one thing to think you’re Lebron. It’s another thing to keep missing the basket and losing games and still think you’re Lebron.

    And that really was the problem: He had the confidence without the full capability. And he gathered around him friends and associates who adored him, who were themselves talented but maybe not quite big enough for the game they were in. They understood the Democratic Party, its facts and assumptions. But they weren’t America-sized. They didn’t get the country so well.

    It is a mystery why the president didn’t second-guess himself more, doubt himself. Instead he kept going forward as if it were working.

    Gee, Peg, a right proper riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma that one is.

    Maybe you and Brooksie can get together with T. Coddington Van Voorhees and sort it all out while boating this weekend.

    If he still has a boat.

  21. Peggy, could it be that he’s a narcissist who knows he can do no wrong?

  22. Or maybe he’s a narcissist because people like Peggy have been telling him how special he is his whole damn life.

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