Yeah, the ‘Pubs were displaying their colors
yesterday—no element of fuckery was too blatant or too petty for them to omit.
After reading about all the voting machines in Georgia that were
non-operational (in largely African American precincts) because the guy in
charge of running elections for the entire state (white Brian Kemp, who’s also
the R candidate for governor and running against a Black woman—how’s that for a
conflict of interest?) somehow ensured that the precincts were not issued…power
cords, I just lost it.
Racist robocalls claiming to be from Oprah, illegally
purging the voter rolls and dogwhistles from the Kleptocrat and his closet VP
weren’t enough. Gotta just outright sabotage the polling places.
Work offered no respite, either, as we had a
palace coup last Thursday and I’m still finding out who’s been purged. Because
clearly the LEED-certified walls of our building would crumble if any actual
communication were ever to take place.
As an aside—and combining the chicanery of
voter suppression with the surrealism of my employer—on Monday the new HR
director sent us an email reminding us of both our civic duty and what the
company will put up with, viz:
Yes, the highlighting/bolding are hers. She’s
basically telling us that even though they’re technically required to give us an hour on the clock to go vote,
they’re on to our shifty ways, and they
know what times the polls in the area open and close, so we’d better not
try to claim that hour, or there’ll be some ‘splaining to do, Loocie. This
place has the highest density of PhDs outside an R1 university, and the HR
director is telling us all that we cannot be trusted to use the allowed hour for
its designated purpose—we could be getting our nails done, or stopping off for
a beer with that hour—and that she’s got eyes on us.
In short, mood:
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