Rain, Feathers and the Jovian System

Does it always rain on Election Day in November or is it just me? Every general election I can remember, except '92, seems like it was raining. I used to hope the rain symbolized the washing away of the previous administrations gaffs and bad blood to make way for a new administration full of hope and promise. Deep inside, there is the hope that the rain is the result of the collective dismay and angst of the soon to be loser (preferably Republican) that has manifested itself in an act of nature. Of course, the realist in me--that part of me that is slowly taking over the innocent, optimistic idealist I have been all my life and turning me into a Ryan Harbaughesque curmudgeon--thinks it always rains the first Tuesday in November. Sure, the colors of fall are beautiful, but the trade off is the cold and rain. If McCain wins today, even the bright foliage of mid autumn will not be able to brighten the millions of souls that are hoping for a change, and praying not for 4 more years of the same old, same old.

I wish I could say something to inspire and rouse the passions of the 60% of the country who are not voting today. I have to say, it really pisses me off that these so called Americans can take their freedom, their liberty and good fortune for granted like this every two to four years. There are over 6 billion human beings on Planet Earth. Less than half of them have the right to choose their future leaders. Less than half get to join together and force change, make the world a better place and oust ineffective leaders that squander resources for personal gain and prestige. I would say that to the 100 odd million of Americans that sit on there backsides and complain about the state of the world and do nothing about it, but I will not. I have said it before, as have so many others. My energies are more valuable in other places.

If Sarah Palin ends up as President of the United States, I will build my own rocket ship and move to Europa. There is water there, you know. And Ice. I can grow potatos and humongous eggplants and zucchini in my orbital greenhouse, distill my own vodka, mix my own martinis and watch the Earth explode from afar, while having sex in zero-g with my beautiful wife. I can not imagine a more tranquil place than the Jovian system. Sure, the radiation most likely would fry my insides, the multiple asteroids in orbit could pulverize my space station or aqua-hab and who knows what kind of other dangers could await in the outer solar system. But I think I will take my chances in high Juipter orbit rather than watch the look on President Palin's face when she realizes that there are other countries on Earth, other than Russia, that she can't see from her back porch.

Why all of the republicans I have talked to this election year keep there heads in the sand about the GOP ticket's ineptitude is beyond me. We are one more McCain melanoma away from the Book-Burning-Beauty-Queen's first State of the Union address. Why doesn't that scare the living-you-know-what out of more people? I will tell you why, because so many people in this country are sheep. They will believe whatever they are told. That's how the majority of the politicians in this great land of ours are elected. I now await with ever growing wonder for the official announcement that the Republicans have changed their party mascot from the elephant to the ostrich.