Tuesday, October 1, 2024

Register to vote, or check your registration

To me, it seems the only hope Trump has to “win” is if his supporters throw so many wrenches into the voting process that there will be “questions” as to who actually won.  And then his Supreme Court stooges will go, “Since there’s no way to really know who won, we’ll just say that Trump won.” And that will be the end of this experiment with democracy.

One of the wrenches being thrown, is purging people from the voter rolls.  Yes, voter rolls need to be kept up to date as people move, or become eligible to vote, or when they die.  And then there are those who purge thousands of voters from the rolls weeks before an election for … reasons? 

So if you feel that America should remain a democracy and that the voters – not corrupt election officials – should determine who wins an election, then you need to do your part.  Right now, doing your part is to register to vote – if you’ll be 18 by Election Day – or checking your registration.  You should be able to check your registration on your state’s website, although some of them apparently don’t make it obvious.  So another site you might want to use is Vote.gov.  The reason to do it now, is in some states there is a deadline as to when you can register, and it may only be days away from when this is posted.  But if you are registered, you should still check your registration because if there are problems – from the normal glitches that happen in databases of millions of people or from politically motivated purges – you can get it all sorted out well before the election.  And the smoother things flow on Election Day, the smaller the wrench the forces of tyranny will have to destroy the process. 

Tuesday, September 24, 2024

Ideas for Election Stories

Several months ago, I wondered what I could do to help defeat Trump.  Without going crazy, like donating money or talking to people.  What things were there that I felt comfortable enough doing?  I figured I could write some stories, as sort of a cautionary tale of what a Trump Dictatorship could look like.  That was a great idea, but it turns out I don’t have the time, energy, patience, skill, etc., to write all these stories.  But I don’t want these story ideas to just fade away after November.  Especially if there is someone out there who could make something of these ideas to further the cause of making Trump’s defeat even greater.  So here are some story ideas I won’t get around to writing before the election.  If you can make something of them, then go for it.

Story #1

This is a simple story of some news reporter giving a glowing speech about how grand and vibrant Trump is as he begins his third term and how the Chosen People cheer him on while the Anti-Trumpers are trying to destroy the world, or some such BS.  During all of this, in the background there is video of Trump, who is just this drooling blob in a wheelchair. 

Story #2

There has been a lot of weird shit during this election.  Like, didn’t Vance once say something about only people with kids, biological kids, that is, should vote because only they have a stake in the future, or some shit?  I know it was only like a month ago, but a thousand weirder things have happened since.  Anyway, this story is a news report about how a Republican Congress passed some bill, which Trump signed, that restricted voting to only people with biological children.  The bill was named after some Senator who, thanks to the genetic testing now required to vote, learns that his kids aren’t biologically his.

Story #3

This is more of a “fun” story, in that some Republican asshole tries to impeach President Harris on Day 1.  The fun comes when someone, possibly even President Harris, rips them and the entire Republican party to shreds over it.  I think the greatest problem with this one is that there is so much material to shred the Republican party on, that you run the risk of dragging on for too long.

Story #4

This is a story I actually started writing, with the title “A Rose by Any Other Name.” The story was about some Republican asshole in Congress proposing a bill that if passed would certainly be signed by Trump, that outlawed giving gender neutral names to babies.  Like, the parents couldn’t just name their kid Sam, it would either have to be Samuel or Samantha. 

This idea began when I wondered if parents would start doing that so that the kid could decide if they were a Samuel or a Samantha or just a Sam.  I don’t know if that is even a thing parents are doing, but I realized that even if it isn’t a thing that’s happening, there are those who would spend a great deal of time and effort to make sure it couldn’t happen.  I mean, it’s not like they could spend that time and effort to try to solve an actual problem that’s harming people. 


I started writing this, and one point I wanted to bring up is there are a couple countries that have some sort of naming board.  Some of these are for cultural reasons, while others are for more grammatical reasons.  I sort of fell into a rabbit hole on this, which just confused me so I set the story aside and now I don’t have time to hammer something out of it. 

Tuesday, September 10, 2024

This election is far from over

With all the buzz over Harris and the multiplying dumpster fires that is the Trump campaign, I was starting to feel relieved.  And then I remembered that’s how I felt in 2016.  We had one competent candidate with years of service who, while not being able to solve all of America’s problems, would at least take steps to put dents in the problems, and then there was this dumpster fire named Trump.  And while I still believe that come next January we’ll have President Harris, here are my election predictions and why I won’t really relax for another six months or so.

First off, I predict that Harris will easily win the popular vote getting the most votes of any candidate ever.  I also predict that she’ll win the Electoral College roughly the same as Biden did in 2020.  She might pick up two or three states, but she might also lose a state or two. 

Immediately after the election, there will probably be two hundred or so lawsuits filed about the election.  I predict that 50ish percent of them will be dismissed almost immediately because they are clearly batshit insane.  Another 40ish percent will be dismissed rather quickly because, while not obviously insane, there won’t be any evidence of whatever criminal act they claim happened.  The remaining lawsuits, while actually falling into the previous two categories, will unfortunately be seen by judges who will take them as an opportunity to audition for the next Supreme Court seat Republicans get to fill.  And while no actual wrongdoing will ever be proven from all these lawsuits, their true purpose will just be so countless assholes can talk about the “concerning questions” these lawsuits bring to the “faith” in the outcome of the 2024 Election.

When Congress certifies the election, I doubt there will be another attack on the Capital, if for no other reason that this time we’ll have a President who won’t just sit there and watch it happen for hours without doing anything.  I’m sure there will be protests, but they will be kept clear of the Capital.


And while I’m 99% certain that Harris will be sworn in as President next January, and all the MAGA trickery will amount to … nothing, I can’t shake the feeling that the truly diabolical members of the right have some secret plan to throw a wrench into Harris’s Presidency.  But I bet such a plan would come out before or just after she’s sworn in.  Which is why I won’t fully be relaxed about this election until sometime next spring.

Monday, September 9, 2024

Random Story – Payphone stories

These are just odd little stories from my life.

Back in ’92 or ’93, I went on a school trip to Toronto.  It was one of these where we left at midnight, did something in Toronto, and were home again at like 4 AM the next day.  What we did on that trip, I don’t remember.  But at one point, a group of us were someplace and we figured it was a good time to use the restroom.  I remember we went down a set of stairs, and ended up in this lounge area with the restrooms on the ends.

A friend of mine and I had finished, and we were waiting out in this lounge for another one of our friends.  In this lounge, there were four or five payphones, and I was standing next to them.  I don’t know why, but I stuck my finger in the change return of the nearest one.  My friend started to say something about if I was that desperate for money or something, when I pulled out a quarter.  He then got angry alternating between claiming I was trying to prank him and what was the luck that I’d check some random payphone in another country and find a quarter.  Well, it was a Canadian quarter from a Canadian phone.  If it had been a US quarter, that would have been another level.

The other payphone story I have, happened like ten years later.  When I lived in towns, I enjoyed taking walks late at night to let my mind wander and plot stories.  Which is something I can only really do in a place with sidewalks and streetlights, and where I live now has neither.  But I get to see a lot more stars.  Anyway, one of my walking routes took me by the courthouse in this town, and outside it there were two or three payphones.  One night, I was walking by them and just randomly checked for coins, but didn’t find any.  I kept going, until I heard a woman call out to me.  She walked over and tried to give my like $10.  I was confused, until I realized she thought I was homeless.  She figured only homeless people would check for coins.

I can’t remember the last time I saw a payphone.  But if I ever see one again, I’ll probably check for change, just for memories.  Plus, a quarter doesn’t buy as much as used to, but it’s still money.

Tuesday, August 27, 2024

Slaying dragons

A month or so ago, I saw some article where some billionaire said something like, “You peasants can’t understand how tough it is to be rich.” I mean, that wasn’t what was actually said, but that seemed to be their real thoughts.  I read that, and I thought, You know, in days of yore, there would be brave knights who would come and slay the foul beasts that hoarded gold and laid waste to the land. 

I liked that image, and for a couple of days I tried to figure out some story I could write with it.  While I didn’t find a story idea, I did realize what I would do if I had a few million dollars I didn’t know what else to do with.  I would create an organization, The Knights of … some term that hasn’t already been taken by some other organization or metal band.  This organization would hire a bunch of investigative journalists, forensic accountants, and a ton of lawyers.  And the point of the organization would be to … metaphorically slay dragons.  Probably in a monthly, online newsletter.

Are you some company who doesn’t pay your employees overtime?  Do you use some accounting slight-of-hand to underreport your profits to the IRS?  Do you use your obscene wealth to basically buy a politician?  Our job would be to make sure everyone knows that. 


Now we wouldn’t just repeat baseless gossip.  The key point for the organization would be that everything we report would have been double and triple confirmed to the point it would hold up in a court of law.  And if the gossip was some company was doing something illegal but we couldn’t prove it, we would come out and say that we were unable to prove it.  I guess I should say we wouldn’t slay all the dragons, just the ones we could prove were committing crimes.  And I bet, most dragons would still be upset by that.  Curious.

Tuesday, August 20, 2024

A message to political introverts

I am an introvert.  Three independent groups of people gave me the nickname Silent Steve.  I maybe say a couple thousand words a week, and most of that is at work where I have to talk to customers.  If I didn’t have to work, and talking to the dog didn’t count, I could easily be down to a hundred or so words a week.  There are several factors as to why that is.  First, it’s just the way I am.  Second, I do have interests I could talk about, but most of the people I know who share those interests are online.  And third, many of my views on religion or politics aren’t widely shared where I live.

Expanding on that third point, I think Trump was the worst President since … ever.  The next worse one would probably be Nixon, but at least he had the decency to resign.  I have a pretty good grasp of history since WWII, and I know there were some corrupt Presidents in the 1800s, but none of them tried to overthrow the government.  I’m in the rough spot of on one hand wanting Trump to be punished in prison for the rest of his miserable life for the uncountable number of crimes he’s committed, but on the other hand I see that he clearly has mental issues and deserves dignified treatment and care. 

Now I live in a very red county.  I had written that even in the weeks after the assassination attempt, I didn’t see any increase in Trump signs or hats or anything.  But in the last couple of weeks, I still haven’t seen any new yard signs, but there has been a slight uptick in people wearing Trump hats or shirts.  And even people not wearing such obvious MAGA clothing will still blurt out some MAGAish statements.  It’s not a question of if, but when I’ll hear someone make a racist comment about Harris. 

All of this is to say that I don’t talk about politics in general, but in the last decade or so I’ve become even more guarded.  So I’m not one to put up a Harris/Walz sign, or wear a button or anything like that.  And I’m too broke to help them with money.  I do write stories, such as “Hot Enough for Ya?” which shows what could happen with a second Trump term, but too few people follow me and will even see it. 

This came to a head a couple of months ago.  I felt like I wasn’t doing enough to save democracy.  Like, the fate of the nation rested entirely on my shoulders.  I wanted to do more, but couldn’t and felt terrible.  And I realized that one, it’s not all up to me, but more importantly two, I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.  There are probably tens of thousands of people across the country giving themselves ulcers worried that they, personally, aren’t doing enough.  Maybe they’re an introvert and don’t like talking to strangers about things like abortion or climate change.  Maybe they’re struggling financially and can’t really afford to give some politician $20.  Or maybe they’re a blue dot in a rabid MAGA sea and don’t want to make themselves a target.  And my message to all the political introverts out there is you are not alone.  You don’t have to single-handedly save democracy.  If the only thing you are emotionally/financially/physically able to do is vote on November 5, then do that.  The entire point of talking to people and paying for ads is to get people to vote because that’s the most important thing.  And if that is the only thing you can do, then you’ve done the most important thing. 

#


And just a quick note, since voting is the most important thing, check to make sure you are registered to vote.  If you find any issues now – say you were “mistakenly” purged – it can all be fixed so Election Day will run a bit smoother for you.

Thursday, August 15, 2024

Short story – “Hot Heads”

 “Hot Heads”

With a whimpered grunt, Jacob fell against a tree.  He immediately regretted the jolt that gave his broken rib.  A last-minute gust of wind had caught his parachute and slammed him into a tree trunk.  From the pain, he figured he had broken at least one rib, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was two or three.  He had also lost a bunch of skin along his right side and his upper arm.

Jacob had no idea how much time he lost from the various times he passed out from the pain or time spent trying to rip the parachute into bandages.  But he finally got moving.  He had to find the bomb.

Leaning against the tree, part of Jacob knew he needed to rest, but the rest of him knew that if he gave into the cries of his legs to sit down, he might never get going again.

“I have to go,” he told himself.  He remained leaning against the tree.

Taking as deep a breath as he could Jacob shouted, “I have to find the bomb.” With that, he took a staggered step forward.  He made it two or three trees before he needed to stop again.

He had only been there for a few seconds when he thought he heard something.  He tried to quiet his panting to listen.  At first, he figured he had imagined it, then he distinctly heard the thump of a distant helicopter.

Was it just a helicopter on a regular mission, or had the authorities been notified?  Despite the drought, there were still plenty of leaves on the trees, so it was unlikely they would spot him.  Regardless, he needed to find that bomb.

The helicopter didn’t seem to be getting any closer, so Jacob forced himself to keep going.  He was soon rewarded when the wind changed and brought him the scent of gasoline.  Looking around he saw the bomb’s parachute tangled in the branches.

Even with his goal in sight, it still took him a few minutes to reach the bomb.  It was just a metal case hammered out in a basement.  It had broken open in the crash, and the hundred gallons of homemade napalm were spilled out onto the forest floor.

Jacob dropped to his knees next to the bomb.  Fortunately, it had landed with the detonator panel almost on top.  Jacob took out his multi-tool and opened the screwdriver.  He unscrewed the screws from the panel and removed it.  One of the wires for the detonator had come loose.  Jacob couldn’t help but laugh.  All the weeks they had spent, ruined by a loose wire.

Their plan had been simple.  Sam had his own plane, so they built a bomb and dropped it in the dry forest hoping to start a massive forest fire.  But after they had pushed the bomb out, there had been no explosion.  After some debate, they flew back to the airport, picked up a parachute, and flew back to the site.  Since Jacob was the only one who had ever jumped from a plane – eight years earlier – he was volunteered to find out what had happened to the bomb.

The big biofuel companies planted vast forests only to pulp them for biofuel.  They planted new forests and the cycle repeated.  The trees took the carbon out of the atmosphere, and the fuel put it back.  In theory, no new carbon was added to the atmosphere, and the carbon already there was just recycled.  Their claim was that while it wouldn’t stop global warming, it would slow it down some.

The fools.  God was going to destroy the world with fire, and there was no use fighting the inevitable.  Jacob took a deep breath and let it out.  He said a silent prayer, then reattached the wire.

***

I first wrote this story over ten years ago.  At the time, I think it was about how crazy would someone be for wanting to destroy a feeble attempt at stopping climate change.  Not that terrorists are known for well thought out arguments, but still, once you reach some point of lunacy, you pretty much become ineffective.  Oh, for simpler times.