Crisis of Culture

It's election day, and that means -- free Starbucks' coffee, status-symbol stickers to venerate the brave souls that waited in line, and staying up late to watch pundits argue about whether or not any given state can be considered "called" for one candidate or the other, flipping channels on occasion to see the blue and red switch up in the so-called "swing states" and other locations throughout the country get reassigned like a game of Risk gone awry.

Of course, it also means that by the end of the day, we'll likely have a good guess, at least, as to who our next President will be. While I'm not an active participant in the system -- at least, not this time around -- that's still a pretty big deal, and I can't really deny it. What this election really represents, though, is a division in the country that no President, past or future, is capable of reconciling. We're a nation divided, full of different opinions and wholescale fundamental disagreements that drive us apart from each other more than the Rocky Mountains or the World Series ever could. And you know what?

That's awesome.

I'm glad that I live in a country where people can disagree with me. I'm glad that I live in a country where people can hate me for thinking the way that I do. I'm particularly glad that I live in a country large enough to keep some open space between them and myself on the whole. That's what freedom is, what democracy is -- it's the ability of the people of one nation to unite, divided, against themselves in generally nonviolent war, a war waged with sandwich boards and televised promotions of pet causes. A war that burns in the heart of every American, legal or illegal, voter or non-voter, partisan party-man or split-the-middle independent.

A nation espousing a singular ideal is, in my opinion, fascist. That's the embodiment of everything that we should abhor, at least so long as it wears the guise of choice, and which has no place within a country such as our own. While I don't feel strongly enough this time 'round to vote for one candidate or the other, the fact that I could -- or that I could cast a vote for some crazy third-party whackjob that hasn't a snowball's chance in Hell -- is a wonderful thing. The fact that people get angry when I tell them I don't vote is even better. I encourage everyone that can to get out, vote, make your voice heard, all that fancy junk. Me? I'll keep to myself, thanks, until an option I like pops up. I'm not holding my breath.

I'm sure I've got more to say, but I can't think of it right now. It's not as if anyone reads this, anyhow, so I'm just expressing my own opinion recursively to myself. Not much to get excited about there, I suppose.

Until next time, dear reader! (Yeah, that's me, what now?)

Crisis of Culture