Dudes, dudettes! This is the big day, huh? USA! USA! Well, maybe. I mean, so far shit seems cool, right? There are huge lines outside all the libraries for a change and, well, once they evacuate every building with an eyeline to Grant Park, a million of the black guy’s closest pals are going to descend on downtown Chicago (a million? Jesus fucking louise!) for what’s either going to be the best party or the ugliest riot that we’ve seen around here for a while.
I’m staying in. I think this is a good move for me pretty much forever. I like staying in. I pretty much need to go out once a month to realize how great staying in is. I think, if tonight the old Frankenstein’s monster and the crazy hick lady win, and the black guy’s victory party turns into a gigantic festival of destruction that somehow winds all the way to my neighborhood and I end up dying in a pyre of enraged flames, I don’t think my last thoughts are going to be “man, I wish I had spent more time going out and getting beers”.
I think that’s pretty much been covered.
I voted last week. My friend just told me that it took her 2 hours when she went this morning at six fifteen. That’s pretty wild, huh? I was watching that androgynous smug woman on MSNBC last night, and she played a clip of some Reagan administration dude talking about how the Republicans always stand to gain from low voter turnout. Presumably, because people who vote republican tend to always get out there, but the democrats (which is really slang for a loose confederation of sovereign groups following unrelated ideologies that all in some way don’t fit under the Republican umbrella, kind of like how the Bloods were really just a confederation that developed in response to the Crips in LA) kind of need specific issues to be on the table to get out in force. Yeah, so big lines, good for the black guy, bad for the old man. Heh. That’s kind of funny, if you recapitulate that last sentence as a drug reference. Anyway.
SO, what’s the point? I don’t know, but I’m feeling pretty good about this day. I was talking about the myth of Republican small government last night with my wife, and I was saying (not that I’m revolutionary in this thinking or anything) that in the last 8 years, these fucking people have created a whole new department in the government, passed a gigantic sweeping pack of laws (an ‘act’ if you will) that lets the government enter our homes, our computers our phones, they’ve spent billions of dollars, everyone still pays insane taxes. There’s no small federal government under a republican regime. The only reason they toe that line is because they were never really in control of everything at the same time before. That’s like being straight edge until you’re twenty one. Dick Cheney is essentially Brian Baker recapitulated. Okay, but for the record, Brian Baker is amazing, Dick Cheney, he’s only pretty great.
Yeah, so it’s election day and if you’re just joining us, we’ve been rapping about politics from a barely informed, highly specious, theoretical level here at BSC. We’re gonna have some people over to watch the results come in and I’m in charge of election night foods. Here are some ideas I have so far. (I’m leaving out things that obviously pander to stupid ‘old guy, black guy’ jokes such as Metamucil or watermelon for a few reasons. First, that’s fucked up, questionable in terms of you know, general decency, and just too easy. Also, I had watermelon and Metamucil for breakfast, so I don’t want to do it again tonight.) Here we go:
Wings-both hot and barbecue, representing left and right wing policies respectively. Barbecue seems to be mostly the product of red states (and they’re so fucking good at it, btw…Oh, man, go to Stubbs in Austin and get the hot link sandwich or the ribs….FUCK!) meanwhile hot wings were born in the blue state situated city of Buffalo. Pretty clever, eh?
Pizza- If it’s half pepperoni and half blue cheese, then it’s red and blue, like the election map and it’s already cut into pieces, just like our great country. Plus, I’ve never had blue cheese on pizza, and while part of me thinks it sounds gross, part of me thinks it sounds great. Which is kind of how I feel about you know, hanging out with Sara Palin’s family. I bet those hicks know how to party, but I bet they’re into some fucked up shit. Especially Track. Don’t ask me why I think so, I just do.
Some sort of game meat- I mean obviously. Shot from a helicopter if possible.
Fondue- Representing the great melting pot of America. Dipping pieces of meat and fruit into a cascading fountain of…who am I kidding? I don’t want to clean a fondue fountain. Next.
Cheese Steaks- Pennsylvania is a big deal in this election people, and I don’t want to eat scrapple (look it up, westerners).
Nachos- Representing the ever increasingly important Latino vote. Easy to share, too.
A plate of sausages and clams- This is to show support for the votes about gay marriage which is a big deal in this election, in California, Florida, and maybe Arizona(?). Just let people get married already. And don’t give me that bullshit about it opening the door for people to marry goats and all that shit. No one wants to marry a goat. Haven’t you heard the expression ‘why buy the goat when you can get the milk for free?’ I’m pretty sure that’s relevant somehow.
Falafel and hummus- Because, you know, Barack is a terrorist and a muslim. Oh, wait. That’s fucked up on at least 3 counts, huh? Aye aye aye.
And finally, Wild Turkey, because if the old man wins, I’m going to need a shot or two, and if the black guy wins, I’m gonna want one. Yup.
Get out there and vote please. It’s seriously the least you can do.