Fred Reed reflects on what he calls the "Opera Bouffe Election":
Just dragged my scrawny carcass in from Washington, the heart of darkness, with the usual sense—usual now—of having visited an asylum. I figure Salvador Dali designed the government. Or maybe Ionesco or Someone deeply twisted with a sick sense of humor.
In the airports, the same obedience training—take off your shoes, belt, watch, fillings, prostate, so we can to learn to respect the authority of low-IQ federalized renta-cops with the psyches of school-yard bullies. God save us from the congenitally unimportant. From PA systems came the same pointless security-babble having nothing to do with security, in the same over elocuted I-wanna-lick-the-microphone female voices. Well, it’s not quite pointless. We must condition the rubes, give them an inspiriting sense of danger so they will do as they are told. It’s awful. I’m going to apply for a change of phylum.
It got worse. I discovered that America is about to have an election. Why? Every time they do that, no good comes of it. You’d think they’d learn.
As usual, the election is a popularity contest run for dimwits. And to elect a dimwit, which is worse.
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