Election Day

I think I shall have to negotiate with the Darling Wife to ensure that, come election day, we are amply stocked with wine and xanax* that the next 24 hours will be sufficiently hazy as to render me insensible.
Way I figure it, Election Day will bring one of three things.
1. An age in which, The Candidate will be unable to be questioned without invoking sharp reprisal. (A case could be made that that’s already occurred.)
I figure this to be the most likely. I harbor some vague notion that after election, Obama will reveal himself to be a) a fifth stage invid b) one of the Visitors who are here to help us (and take our water!) c) Jesus, in which case I am in serious trouble.
Each of which calls for progressively more booze. My liver may need tiny little CPR paddles for next Tuesday.
2. An assassination – the notion of a Biden presidency makes me want a bomb shelter, all Cold War style. Stat. And probably a Lloyd Bridges sized tank of Hippie Crack.
2a. That might just lead to riots in certain areas of the country methinks. In which case I should be of sufficiently cloudy judgement so as to not let ethics get in the way of self-preservation.
3. (In my estimation the least likely) a McCain victory. In which case, I’m going to need to be drunk.

Okay, I’ll admit, there’s a fourth, but that’s the same one that’s haunted me every election since, er, 1984**…that just shy of the election something will get blown up and martial law will be declared. (The fact that reality keeps moving closer to this paranoid notion? REASON TO DRINK.)

So, yes, it’s looking quite likely that next Tuesday I’m going to be drinking like Warren Ellis. The advantage here is that, having voted weeks ago, I can pretty much literally hole up in my third floor cave like the hermit from Led Zepplin IV (minus the star of david bit) and look down on the world as it unfolds. If you think my Election-Day-As-Zombie-Apocalypse attitude is out of line, just wait til next Tuesday. Voices will carry.

*blessedly, being insane, I have xanax in sufficient quantities for anything up to a Fortnight Apocalypse.

** Walter Mondale – Ronald Regan. What a pair o’ winners.

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~ by Auntie Ranty on October 29, 2008.

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