Hammer Mill Days

Try moving it to the other side of the tail fin. No, not that one! The dorsal tail fin! Okay, now hit it with a hammer a few times. Nothing? Hmmm .... how about if we light it on fire. Sometimes that helps. Oh, damn. I didn't realize I was typing this all into our blog. (I think that's called auto-typing.) Well, as you can tell, Big Green is working furiously to get our rented Plywood 9000 space rocket ready for launch before the election on Tuesday, when all hell is likely to break loose. At least, that's what the little voices in my head tell me. There are times when you feel compelled to stay and fight the good fight, and then there are those other times when you ... well ... decide to take a rented rocketship to another planet. That's a hasty decision, I know, but again ... those persistent little voices! Seriously, I am looking forward to a perhaps non-remunerative jaunt out to the Kuiper belt if only to free ourselves from the pressures of terrestrial life.

Here we are, once again, staring down the electoral precipice, praying for salvation. It's a quadrennial tradition, though sometimes more acute than others. This is certainly one of those times, though count me as among those who considered John McCain to be an existential threat to the nation back in 2008; his seemingly insatiable appetite for warfare would have led us in a very dangerous direction, to say nothing of his economic proposals. (He likely would have been a one-term president, but I'm not sure we would have lasted four years.) Now, of course, we're sweating out a resurgent Trump, buoyed by bad news for Hillary Clinton. This is a reactionary, climate change denialist detour we most certainly cannot afford at this juncture, but ... here we are. The fact that we so often find ourselves on the edge of disaster is an indication that we need to do something about not only this process of electing leaders, but also about the magnitude of power they wield in office.