One Man, One Dubious Vote

One Man, One Dubious Vote

First time hearing of Planned Parenthood, I didn’t know much about their operation, but their slogan seemed effective: “Whatever your cause, it’s a lost cause without planned parenthood.” Given the pressure of population, it sounded reasonable. At the time, it sounded reasonable. Who was to know what antics they were up to, eh? But the slogan stuck. Let’s cop the same idea, but apply it to voting: ‘Whatever your cause, it’s a lost cause without fair voting.”
☞  Crooked voting, whether by coercion or downright fraud, has been around since the ballot ritual was introduced. Ballots for Tammany Hall candidates by paid Bowery drunks is a model. Or spirit votes from the Chicago dead. Or even in the recent election sit-com wherein some zones cast more votes than voters. And it’s most uncomfortable to mention which zones they might be for fear of arrest by agency of the reigning party.
☞  Not much of an argument for democracy, eh? More like mobocracy. But there are shining moments when the notion of a democratically governed system shines through. Like the moment when Al Gore contested the 2000 election. Whole truckloads of respect were excited by the senator’s objection. Actual truckloads. Truckloads of ballots were shipped across Florida to settle the vote there; overhead flying copter cameras caught the event same as the shadowing of OJ’s fleeing Bronco.
☞ Out of all the microscopic ballot perusal which went on for more than a month, there was one shining moment: a judge asked a representing attorney for Gore how the ballots in question were kept. The answer given assured that the ballots “were in safe harbor.” An expression echoing the 18th century style of a few learned and very committed men in a hot little hall in Philadelphia, “in safe harbor” signifies the particular language of their liberty-loving thought. And at the beginning of this new century that language forming the document was still alive in a crammed federal courtroom in Tallahassee, Florida.
☞  But then there are the voters…
                              ================ While looking at a house, my friend asked the real estate agent which direction was north because, he explained, he didn’t want the sun waking him up every morning.  She asked, “Does the sun rise in the north?” When another person jumped in and explained that the sun rises in the east (and has for some time), she shook her head and said, “Oh, I don’t keep up with that stuff.”
And then she voted…
☞ The mind of the voter is certainly not such an easy standard to contemplate, but it often seems to prostrate itself before some rather absurd propositions. Barak Obama’s coddling of Iran, enabling a nuclear possibility, offers prime example of public hunger for absurdity. Political messages now come in seconds, decisions in hours, whereas at earlier “safe harbor” times, they came after hours-long, days-long debates.  Enter the media. Obama henchman Ben Rhoades boasted that the Iran deal became an easier sell because “reporters were easy to manipulate, thanks to the elimination of veteran correspondents and foreign news bureaus.” [ Weekly Standard, 23 May 2016] Veteran correspondents are not much on view in news personnel gatherings, what’s become more like what’s labeled here as the infantada, so very concerned with the youth count– and doubtless they work cheaper. They used to be folks working out of established news bureaus before capitulating to one maverick .org after another. With the advent of dot.commie information control, free thought, let alone speech, has all but disappeared.
                             ============ So my colleague and I were eating lunch in our cafeteria when we overheard one of the administrative assistants talking about the sunburn she got on her weekend drive to the shore. She drove down in a convertible, but “didn’t think she’d get sunburned because the car was moving.”
And then she voted…
☞ It’s no secret how the press is in the tank for the donkey party. But while following a donkey, look out for stepping into a pile of “lawfare.” It seems the donkey party is the only entity with the privilege of voter objection. For the opposing side, lawfare is the result. For the unruly and admittedly embarrassing political moment on January 6, numerous charges required throwing offenders into a gulag. Justification for incarceration without bail or speedy trial was based on defining the crime of trespass as an “insurrection,” which term satisfies a section of the Fourteenth Amendment, which therefore interdicts any who “shall have engaged in insurrection or rebellion” against constitutional proceedings. Thus, a perceived insurrection occurred in which no one was armed and the only mortal victim was an unfortunate ex-GI trying to stop the flow into the capitol, Ashley Babitt.
                              ================ I used to work in technical support for a 24/7 call center. One day I got a call from an InDUHvidual who asked what hours the call center was open.  I told him, “The number you dialed is open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.” He responded, “Is that Eastern or Pacific time?” Wanting to end the call quickly, I said, “Pacific…”
And then he voted…

Venezuelan Toilet Paper Awards

☞  Now that an official gulag has been established, with none therein granted the right of a speedy trial, the welcome mat is out for more residents. And in order to fill the Russian-style gulag there must be Russian-style show trials. Nikolai Krylenko, Prosecutor General under Josef Stalin, would be envious of our American political show trials. Sydney Powell is battling in court for exposing hanky panky at the polls. Rudy Guliani, goomba savior of New York City (now better known as Dystopiana), has been hounded into bankruptcy. Tucker Carlson, banished from the cyclops for some rather secretive reason, maybe questioning Venezuelan voting machines— as if Venezuela should have anything to do with American voting! Not long ago Venezuelans were giving out toilet paper as special awards because of their severe shortages due to corrupt government practices. And Peter Navarro and Steve Bannon, jailed for refusing to cooperate with the election show trial indicting the grand charge magnet himself, Donald Trump.

                              =============== I couldn’t find my luggage at the airport baggage area.  So I went to the lost luggage office and told the woman there that my bags never showed up. She smiled and told me not to worry because they were trained professionals and I was in good hands.  “Now,” she asked me, “has your plane arrived yet?”
And then she voted…

  Nikolai Krylenko

DA Alvin Bragg

☞ According to Alexander Solzenitzen in his Gulag Archipelago recollections, Soviet Prosecutor General Nikolai Krylenko boasted that he didn’t even need evidence for his unfailing show trial convictions. So that’s where Alvin Bragg, prosecutor general of New York, differs from Krylenko. Bragg did offer some pitiable form of wrenched evidence when he went after Donald Trump for alleged bad bookkeeping. And how can it not be considered a show trial when spiced up with a porn actress? Yet not even humongous knockers could offset the weakness of Bragg’s arcane case— whether it was civil, federal, or Disney. Thus, the New York prosecutor general required a party partner. Judge Juan Merchan aided in that by putting outrageous restrictions on the defense team with gag rules, denying evidence and expert witness testimony, not to mention loaded jury instructions. So we can look at the Bragg-Merchan production as a tag-team match, wrestling some weirdly distorted meanings out of the law in order to “save democracy.”

                           =================== My sister has a lifesaving tool in her car. It’s designed to cut through a seatbelt if she gets trapped. She keeps it in the trunk.
And then she voted…
☞ A major and telling difference between Nikolai Krylenko and Alvin Bragg would be the brand of their service to the party. Krylenko was a revolutionary hero before he became prosecutor general, victorious in the red army, defeating the white army alongside Trotsky. Alvin Bragg, on the other hand, merely accomplishes low order hack work for the party by releasing criminals into the population for purposes of general mayhem and disorder. Later, as Solzenitzen describes the function, pet criminals will run the gulags.
                              ================= My friends and I were shopping for beer for a get-together and noticed that the cases were discounted 10%.  Since it was a big party, we bought two cases.  The cashier multiplied two times 10% and gave us a 20% discount.
And then he voted…
☞  To keep in line with wording in the Fourteenth Amendment, that unfortunate protest at the capitol on Jan 6, in order to give it some teeth, had to be interpreted as an insurrection. Never mind the mayhem in too many cities for the two years previous. That particular social explosion of frustration at the capitol, weapon-less, had to be retold in the mouths of naive reporters as an insurrection! A greater disaster than 9/11!  A greater threat to democracy than WWII! So whatever central committee was involved, it decreed that shaking up Nancy Pelosi constituted an INSURRECTION. The perturbation of Madame Speaker (who denied national guard presence) was immanent.
☞ One similarity with the two prosecutors, Krylenko and Bragg, sees how both were able to accumulate during their careers large posteriors. For Krylenko, large buttocks did not serve him well. After he was thrown into the gulag to soften up for confession before the ritual bullet in the head, his cell mates denied the former prosecutor a bunk bed. The Prosecutor General was instead forced to sleep on the floor under the lowest bunk slat, causing his bulbous posterior to stick out. It doesn’t take much imagination to realize what delightfully pleasurable kicks were administered to that prosecutorial ass by former victims. But it’s not likely Alvin Bragg’s posterior will be subject to that same karma, although there are gulags already being established— and the new president could be a former ruthless prosecutor. No, more likely, in light of his less-than-impressive performance, it’s possible Bragg should end up with a lesser position in the bureaucratic swamp, say, administrator of prison toilets.
☞  These current fads of horror comedy are enough to threaten a post-modern prospector with a democritic seizure. Explained in a previous 3T entry, this is a malady named after the ancient sage Democritis, known as the “laughing philosopher.” The democritic seizure is identified by a chest diaphragm seized up with spasms of uncontrollable laughter, laughter so severe that life of the laugher is threatened. These spasms of dangerous guffawing are especially hazardous during an election year. But even at such risk, witnessing those weirdly distorted twists in legalese is too irresistible.
☞ A prospector’s note: These included excerpts rendering an aspect of voter brilliance remain as a few of the memorial tokens from an old friend, Henry Taro, who was good for sharing some dismay in what’s become of the republic.
                                   ================ I was hanging out with a  friend of mine when we saw a woman walk by us with a nose ring attached to an earring by a chain. My friend said, “Wouldn’t the chain rip out every time she turned her head?”  I had to explain to her that a person’s nose and ear remain the same distance apart no matter which way the head is turned.
And then she voted…
☞   It would almost be amusing to dwell on how black Americans— so many of them— remind the rest of the world vociferously of their ancestral oppression. And yet most of them suffered historically, and suffer still, at the hands of the party they cling to and vote for by over ninety percent. Black Democrats support armies of people like Alvin Bragg, the district attorney who set his campaign goal to scalp a fellow New Yorker because that candidate belongs to the party of Lincoln.
But thinking too hard in that direction makes one fearful of bringing on another democritic seizure— and this time the laughter could be fatal. Like a Hell’s Angel would think when calculating a steep high-speed curve, I just might go over the high side.
JoCo, 2024
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