“It had been a damned nice thing – the nearest run thing you ever saw in your life. (Waterloo 18 June 1815)
I have to admit to being bemused a bit about the election of Tuesday.
Living in Alibam, I have to also admit that I didn’t expect very much. Alibam has the attraction of being primitive: I enjoy the primitiveness of its environment – except where it has been polluted by capitalist oligarchs – but I don’t enjoy dealing with some of the people. Especially the politicals and the ersatz Christianists.
When I approached the polling place I was a bit concerned that I would be met by a Christianist Fascist militia demanding loyalty oaths to their demigod, but the path was surprisingly void of any form of influence, including candidate propaganda signs. Inside the hall was as usual except for being a bit more crowded. But the density of scattergun toting ruffians in forest camouflage was no greater than usual. In fact, the notable thing was the density of women.
I presented my ID and was not greeted with growls about it being Federal in origin, but I was offered a privacy envelope for my ballot. I declined. Better to die young than suffer the transition from “Heart of Dixie” (license plate catch phrase) to “Heart of Pedophilia.”
Even before the senator from the Campus of the Black Warrior had spurned his party’s candidate, I had reasoned my way past any consideration further. Simply put, the man was a pariah and if elected would reduce the number of Alibam senators to one even if he was seated. His career has been marked by an absence of cooperation with anyone so I would not expect any from him in the Congress.
I marked my ballot, admittedly in a booth, and walked to the nearest (of two) scanning machines. No one offered to look over my shoulder. I slid the ballot into the slot and the traction wheels drew it from my grasp into the bowels of the machine. I accepted an “I Voted” sticker and departed the hall, displaying my maternal programming by holding the door for three women leaving as I did. As Southrons used to do they thanked me and I “you’re welcome”‘d them in reply before entering my motorcar and motoring to Castellum SCP.
On the morrow, in gym, I was surprised to be informed by one of the Huntsville television stations that the other candidate had won. My efforts to steel myself to the reign of an ostracized sociopath proven needless. By a sparse but adequate margin, the citizens of Alibam had overwhelmed my fears of their depravity.
Not that such depravity is not still present, but it is demonstrated in smaller quantity than I feared.
One of my colleagues, Magnetic Inductance Force, related to me that he saw a clip – on the same station – of the loser in denial invoking among other things, the “Pursuit of Happiness.” We both rolled on the floor laughing over that.
Why? Because the politician in question is a rather flaming evangelical bigot. Who evidently has no idea that that basic tenets of contemporary evangelical doctrine (dogma?) is antithetical to the “pursuit of happiness” in the Founding Fathers’ sense. As I understand it, contemporary evangelicals have no use for science unless they can warp it to support their interpretations of (many times translated and unknown authorship) scripture.
The current theory and interpretation of “pursuit of happiness” is finding the deity by studying nature in a scientific fashion. It was practiced by the national founders and still, but also still rarely in number, today.
And to my naive view, these two outlooks cannot be reconciled no matter how much shaken or stirred. But then I have scant ability at evangelical idea warping.
I find it hurtful that so many of our founding fathers who held political office “pursued happiness” and so few today. So no great victory of Amerika, only a small one for Alibam.