Well, alrighty then—yesterday Sweden officially joined NATO, pissing off Vladimir Putin no end. (The walls of the Kremlin are no doubt covered in the Russian equivalent of ketchup. Which is probably blood.) To honor this, the 31st member of the alliance, we’re going to cruise to the Arctic Circle. It’s ABBA, singing “Waterloo”.
(And this brings me a disco nightmare.)
Well, alrighty then—the GOP has anointed its nominee for president. As if there was any doubt—because of course the law-and-order party of family values wants an adjudicated rapist struggling to hawk up half a billion dollars in bond money so he can appeal fraud and defamation convictions (what a great national security risk!); a serial adulterer; about to sit at the defense table in his first of four criminal trials; a thief; a dictator-manqué; an orator who stumbles over the words “reduce” and “Venezuela”; a father who still would like to hump his daughter.
Here's a photo of your average supporter of this paragon; I shot it on my way back from the polling station.
As you may be aware, presidential primary elections were held yesterday in a bunch of states. I commented about the difference between voter information provided by California and Virginia.
(Both parties actually blew me off—I got no flyers from either
of them or their respective candidates. And, as opposed to California, there
were only two party choices: Democrat or Republican.)
I’d missed the window for early voting, which is my preference,
so yesterday morning I walked over to the polling place in a local elementary
school. I was there around 0830 and let me say that there were about 10 or so
poll workers, but I was the only voter.
You could have held World War III there and no one would have
got hurt.
I suppose it’s because—with only two parties represented and an incumbent
(I was going to say “unopposed incumbent”, but then I remembered Marianne
Williamson and Dean Phillips; haaaaaaaaaaaaaa) for one and a right-wing,
twice-impeached, four-times indicted, 91 felony counts, insurrectionist, grifting, racist, misogynistic, authoritarian, word-slurring nut job for the other, well—obviously iacta alea
est.
As I was leaving, three more people pulled up to do their civic duty, and I say God bless ‘em.
Last month I got several packets of voting materials for today’s primaries.
They were all from Santa Clara County, not from Virginia.
(Evidently Fairfax County can’t be arsed to notify your former voting
jurisdiction when you register here.)
At first I was really excited, because it was the first time (I
thought) the Commonwealth had ever sent any materials to help me be efficient
at the voting booth. But no, it was California, which always sends out
frankly TMI about the referenda, initiatives and candidates so you can make an
informed choice before you cast your ballot.
From the former capital of the Confederacy I’ve received exactly
nothing; they prefer that you have as little information as possible. (TBH,
they’d prefer that you didn’t bother at all with making your voice heard,
unless you’re wearing a red hat made in China.)
No worries—I voted anyhow.
(Only once. In Virginia, not California.)
Today I’m grateful for March, the month when Mother Nature gets Winter out of her system.
You can have all four seasons in March; sometimes within a
24-hour period. But mostly, it’s green, with splashes of color as trees and
shrubs bud and bulbs thrust out of the ground preparing to display narcissi and
tulips later on.
March is a reminder and a promise. I’m grateful for both.
