I’m Not Voting

I’m not voting.

Conveniently, I’ve got plenty of easy excuses. I’m in Argentina. I was registered to vote at the University of Miami at my freshman dorm address, where I voted for Obamamama in 2012.

I don’t live there anymore.

Florida noticed that when I signed a petition to nominate Alina Valdez onto the Democratic Primary ticket. (A candidate needs to have a petition with 2,300 signatures to run, or, almost always, they choose to pay the $10,000 entry fee and pass go.)

I signed it to my senior-year address, but, by the time they got me the letter to revise my address, I was moved out.

Now, technically, I guess I’d have to register at my parent’s home in PA, where my other legal shit is addressed, but I wouldn’t really say I live there anymore, and I don’t plan to in the near future.

So on one level, my little expat thinks, “Your problem, America. You fucking deal with it. You fucked it up. There were signs. You coulda done something.” — But no. That’s not it.

Cause I don’t feel like America (whatever that means) fucked it up. We’ve got some shit down. We make really cool stuff! Like the Freedom of Speech! And the Telephone! And the Blues and recorded music. Light bulbs. Vaccines.

If I wanted to vote, I would make it happen. If I felt like somehow, by voting, I were doing a public service, I would vote. What’s easier, voting or staying informed? What’s easier, voting or buying the guy on the corner a meal? What’s easier, voting or volunteering? I would vote if I believed I’d be helping.

But I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, no, no puedo! Am I the only one who watches politics and only sees liars? And I don’t mean liars like fibbers, I’m not that idealistic, everyone’s got plenty of filth. But these guys, they’ve either eaten enough of their own shit to believe it, or (eh-hem, this one) or they’re flagrantly, consciously, methodically, shrewdly, nauseatingly misleading the good people?

There was a video on my timeline of Hilary-ously Out-of-Touch thanking [Socialists must Bern]-ie at the DNC, and I couldn’t help feel bad for the dude. His back was hunched more than usual, his face: extra Squidward. The crowd applauded and cheered, chanted “Bernie! Bernie! Bernie!” while watching him on a 50-ft screen that amplified his stoic misery to god-scale. It was the end of this man’s relevance, and since the other entry fee for politicians is a gargantuan ego — imagine, it must have been like living through the pain of your own death without a white flash to guide you into oblivion…

Just Hilary, digging in the nail! “Thank you for this! And thank you for that! And thank you, thank you, thank You, Mr., not-president, na-na-na-na boo-boo.”

How are there people clapping at this thing?!

Anyway, so that’s Madame Secretary of State and ex-First Lady and Glass-Ceiling-Breaking Grandma, Hilary Clinton. Nobody (and I mean me) trusts her, nobody (and I only speak for myself) believes her, and nobody wanted or wants to vote for her. I was genuinely aware of the primary race in Florida. I was attending events which discussed the political climate, public demonstrations, aware of and active in events on campus and around the city. And nobody in Miami wanted to vote for Hilary. It was Bernie, Bernie, Bernie.

And then, the primary comes. I voted for the Bernt-out-bald-guy, but at the voting center, it was clear that a lot of people were being turned away. There wasn’t much of a line when I got there. It was moving so quickly because pairs and groups of students were being rejected because they’d had issues registering. Some had clearly been lazy, didn’t realize it was a closed primary, but most seemed confused because they had registered before the deadline, many, specifically when there was registration available on campus.

“Whatever,” I said. “It’s a fluke. Some glitch here.” But then reports come out about voter suppression in New York and Arizona. Oh right, and then the FBI drops her missing emails.

If you’re voting for Trump, you’re a xenophobic, misogynistic, brainwashed soul. It’s ok. I don’t dislike you. I don’t think you’re stupider than people voting for Clinton or people who voted for Mousseline or cheered for the departing Crusaders trekking off on a mass murder-suicide mission in the land where religions have annihilated each other since the dawn of history. The fuck-ups are clearly a part of our shared heritage.

What I’m saying, to all of you, y’all, yinz, yous, yo’uns is that you need to snap out of it! Wake up!

The only argument in this election is, “That other candidate is fucked!” but it’s bigger than that. I don’t want to get into it too much, but to put it in technical, political jargon: the system’s fucked.

There, I’m telling you in plain, adult American-English, cause I don’t know what language the candidates on TV are using, what body language of pomp and self-righteousness, what code of morals, but none of them are the ones I represent, and I refuse to believe they’re the one’s [people who live under] America use either.

I don’t know how to fix it, that’s for all of us to decide, but first, first you, me, we got to realize that the system is the problem. There’s a lot of really good material in our Documents, but it’s time to revise! To edit! To shred all the stupid ideas.

Quit dehumanizing, please.

I could vote for third parties or randos. That’s the best counterargument I’ve been given to my decision, but to hell with that. In a protest vote’s place, this is my formally-voiced, publicly-displayed disapproval of my country’s electoral system, the media oligariclusterfuck that allows for hacks like these to have a voice, and the squares who go along with it and pretend that it really isn’t that bad. It is, and it’s harder to fix than voting for Gary Johnson.