Screw the vote

So, how does the Uniparty© win the presidency in 2016?

  • It won’t be because they are widely loved for their policies.
  • It won’t be because they are so transparent.
  • It won’t be because they have been scrupulously honest.
  • It won’t be because they have healed a divided Nation.

Here’s how…

Breaking news:

“Haiti has cancelled a presidential runoff scheduled for Sunday amid widespread allegations of fraud, a refusal by the main opposition candidate to participate in the ballot, and after protesters attacked electoral offices.

The election in one of the world’s poorest countries is now put on hold indefinitely after Pierre-Louis Opont, head of the Provisional Electoral Council, said he could not guarantee the safety of the poll workers or the country’s 5.8m registered voters.”
[Financial Times 1/25/16]

11 Illinois Counties Have More Registered Voters Than Eligible Residents The Public Interest Legal Foundation… sent out statutory notice letters to the 17 Illinois counties, plus 124 others nationwide, informing them of the discrepancies and warning them that if the records weren’t rectified, the foundation could sue the counties after 90 days for a violation of the National Voter Registration Act. [huffingtonpost.com]

8 Texas counties list more voters than residents  No law prevents localities from having more registered voters than voting-age residents, and eight Texas counties do.

The counties — Loving, Brooks, McMullen, Roberts, Irion, Jim Hogg, Culberson and Polk — list a combined 52,298 registered voters. But the latest U.S. Census data show only 49,457 voting-age residents in those counties.

True the Vote (TTV) has given the counties 90 days to produce correct registration data or face legal action.

The Democratic Party, the American Civil Liberties Union, the Mexican American Legal Defense and Educational Fund and other “progressive” groups have countered TTV’s efforts.

“NVRA does not require the number of registered voters in a county to be below a specific threshold,” the groups note.

Except for Polk County near Houston, the other seven Texas counties identified by True the Vote have stagnant or declining populations. [http://watchdog.org]

Too Many People? Counties Respond To Letters Saying Voting Rolls Are Bloated Seven counties in Nebraska and one in Iowa are being threatened with lawsuits over having more registered voters than voting-age residents.

Two national groups say the numbers are evidence that county officials are not cleaning up voter registration rolls, as federal law requires…

The letters said that poorly maintained voter rolls threaten the integrity of elections.

“Corrupted voter rolls provide the perfect environment for voter fraud,” said J. Christian Adams, the legal foundation’s president and general counsel … [editions.lib.umn.edu]

These States Have More Registered Voters Than Eligible Adults Iowa and Colorado, typically battleground states in presidential and congressional campaigns, each have more registered voters than they have adults over the age of 18 living in the state, according to a conservative watchdog group’s analysis.

The same is true of Washington, D.C., which is set to hold a primary in its mayoral election next week.

Judicial Watch is threatening legal action against the two states and the nation’s capital if immediate steps aren’t taken to clear the voter rolls of dead voters, voters who have moved away or voters that that have become ineligible for other reasons.

Robert D. Popper, former deputy chief of the voting section within the Justice Department’s civil rights division, said he was part of five lawsuits during the Bush administration over allegations of improper voter list maintenance since he was hired in 2005. “In the six years of the Obama administration, there’s been not a single lawsuit,” Popper, now a senior attorney for Judicial Watch, told reporters in Washington on Monday. [The Blaze.com Mar. 24, 2014]

Voters Go To Polls In Haiti Reporting from Port-au-Prince, NPR’s Carrie Kahn reported Saturday on Weekend Edition that Jude Celestin, a mechanical engineer educated in Switzerland, and Jovenel Moise, a wealthy businessman who made his money exporting fruit, are two of the more established candidates running for president. She adds that many Haitians remain dubious of the political process.

“Voter apathy is running high. During last August’s chaotic legislative election, the contest was marred by poor planning, voter intimidation and violence. Less than a fifth of voters cast ballots. Election officials have vowed to do better this round, but many voters are skeptical.”

“Elections for Haiti’s Senate were last conducted May 2012, the same year elections for municipal offices were last held. Meanwhile, the country has not had a presidential election since 2010.

“The current president, Michel Martelly, was elected in a runoff in 2011. He disbanded parliament in January and began governing by executive order. Constitutional law bars him from running for re-election Sunday.” [National Public Radio October 25, 2015]


 

It is enough that the people know there was an election. The people who cast the votes decide nothing. The people who count the votes decide everything. 

Joseph Stalin


Meanwhile, somewhere in America, an Oval Office resident is thinking, Hmmmm, hmmmm, hmmmm. Inciting violence lets leaders cancel elections? Who knew?

Are we Haiti yet?

Catharsis: Foreign Intrigue

e-Harmony rumbles on, delivering selected bios.  Many bios fall out in the first sort. Are the ladies reading my bio or just randomly replying to see who answers?

This is an interesting reply.  All signs point to a possible.

Newly-met lady – the text conversation seems to be going well. In separate emails, we have explored background, upbringing, career, past lives (!) and plans for the future.

Can we talk? OK to email my cellphone number to you? Yes, she says and here is hers; we talk. At length.

Intelligent, good conversationalist and well-informed about current events. She is busy most evenings but this Saturday is available. I suggest that we meet at an upscale steakhouse.

She loves a good steak and so we agree to meet. Very pleasant-looking lady, on-time, well-spoken and considerate. She offers to split the bill because this steakhouse is expensive even by River Oaks standards. I demur; it’s my invitation, let me get this one.

How long have I been out of circulation? Long enough to overlook that a top steakhouse on a Saturday needs 2-week reservations unless we can dine at 11:45.  PM, that is.

The maître ‘d is polite but firm. Perhaps monsieur and madame can wait for a cancellation?

Perhaps a $20 bill could arrange a table at 9:30? No promises.

We cannot wait; both are hungry and so we decide to go elsewhere in hopes (faint) of being served earlier.

We take the misstep in stride and resolve not to let it ruin the evening. There is a nationally-recognized Thai restaurant just across the driveway; would that be OK?

Yes, very much; let’s try it out she says. We can ask the server to let the kitchen know that we would like the mild version of the dishes.

Great idea. There is no waiting at the restaurant and we are seated immediately. The waiter suggests a slightly-sweet white wine to start. That will be fine.

We peruse the unfamiliar menu and the server explains the appetizers. Looks like a good way to silence the hunger pangs until the entrees arrive.

We have engaging conversation; the time flies and the server drops by as we near the end of the appetizers; what would we like for the main?

Again, we get advice and make our orders. I have the beef curry and she opts for the chicken stir-fry with pineapple.

Appetizers are done and the server takes away the dishes.

Excuse me, she says and steps away from the table.

After about a dozen minutes the maître ‘d asks if I would like the kitchen to hold the entrees until my friend returns; a great idea, please do. I’m sure she will return shortly.

Another 10 minutes and the maître ‘d asks if there is some problem.

With what? I ask. Is your lady friend feeling well?

As far as I know; I think she is still in the ladies’ room.

Let me send the receptionist in to see if she is OK. Now I am concerned and immediately agree.

In less than a minute, the receptionist says that there is no-one in the ladies room.

A mystery that only one person can answer. I call the lady on her cellphone to see if she is in trouble or needs help. She answers, sobbing almost incoherently. I am alarmed and ask if she needs help. No, she is OK and does not want or need help. She is sorry about the evening but please don’t call again.

Have I done or said something that ruined the evening? No, she says; it’s all her fault. Please don’t call again. Hangs up.

I’m consider myself to be an aware person but I am beginning to be concerned that all the dating flameouts have a common denominator: me.

Beats me what happened and I’ll probably never know what not to do or what to stop doing.

Am I actually Captain Oblivious?

Mr. World-passing-by-without-me-noticing?

Mr. Facts-smacking-me-in-the-head-and-I’m-not-getting-the-message?

The maître ‘d asks if I still want the entrees. Yes, I do. They will make great leftovers.

The maitre’d grimaces but says, as you wish, sir. $60 later, I am walking back to my car.

Yellow Post-it® Note on the driver-side window has a single word. Sorry.

Back home. The birds screech because I woke them up, but the dogs are happy to see me, as always. Ravenous, I heat and eat the beef curry and the dogs devour the pineapple (ugh) chicken stir-fry.

In about seven seconds.

More, they ask? After licking and re-licking the bowl, the plate and the floor, just to be sure, they see that there is no more and go lie down on the couch. Both soon are snoring softly.

All is well in my home and I am happy to be there. Another adventure. No harm done, but a mystery all the same. These years later, I have a theory, but no real idea what happened.

Hope springs eternal – I won’t let this discourage me.

Thus ends Catharsis Act V.

Dirt

By dirt, I don’t mean clean, wholesome garden soil suitable for growing onions and potatoes. No, this dirt is something your momma told you to stay out of; it is diseased dirt. This is not the dirt found in great forests between the oak tree roots, among the leaf litter. This is the dirt of rotting garbage, of open latrines, of dog kennels, of pig sties and of political strategists.

I started thinking about this when I read that there are questions about whether Cruz is really a “natural-born citizen” and thus perhaps might not be able to serve even if elected President.

What are the chances that the Department of Justice would not file suit to set a Cruz election aside on the previously-unexplored question of exactly what constitutes a “natural-born citizen”?  Would the Supreme Court recuse itself or nullify the election on Constitutional grounds?

Where were these legal geniuses when the un-vetted Obama swept the nation off it’s feet with his soaring oratory, the unwarranted Nobel prize and the styrofoam Greek columns?

While he was creating the never-before-seen “Office of the President-Elect”?

Still feel a tingle down the leg, Chrissey Matthews?

This is the dirt of political money and blackmail (Mrs. Clinton, please pick up a white courtesy phone).

This is the dirt that blacks-out souls and fills the heart with unbridled greed, with arrogance, with dismissiveness, telling blatant lies as an automatic reflex.

And laughing about it.

Mocking the fools who voted to elect, re-elect and re-elect all the while making lying promises about “next election, for sure”.

Of subverting the laws of the Republic, undermining God-given rights and demanding tribute for access.

It is the dirt of lying in the face of incontrovertible evidence of the lie while the lie is being told.

It is the dirt of denying the reality that the citizens can plainly see to spin a political lie that excuses the political crime and immunizes the political criminal.

It is the dirt of publicly breaking the law and daring the citizens to do anything about it.

This dirt soils formerly honest men beyond the point of ever becoming clean again, then splashing them with expensive perfume to hide the stink.

These perfumed princes have become so obese from gorging at the public trough that they now cannot reach back far enough to clean themselves. Befouled with their own waste and the waste sprayed out by other grasping politicians colluding in the subversion that has become government-as-we-know-it today.

Is this the first time in these United States? No, there is history for it, but never before has it presented such an immediate danger. In the past, it was only a periodic disease, uneasily tolerated by the citizenry, generally in hopes that it would run its course and thus become self-corrected.

Self-correction is unlikely this time. Why would the all-powerful princes derail their own gravy train, after all?

Once this foul miasma becomes intolerable in any country, once the stench is overpowering in the nostrils of every citizen, historically it is always followed by a thorough and sometimes violent housecleaning where the mighty are brought low, ending their lives in jail or worse.

Violent housecleaning has not occurred here since 1776.

Precedent?

Julius Caesar was stabbed in the Roman forum by a gang of Senators (no clean hands there) so that all would be bound to silence for their part in the murder. They had all the tyranny they would stand for.

Recall Benito Mussolini and his mistress Clara Petacci caught by Italian citizens while he was trying to escape the country he had wrecked in war. He was not wearing his grandiose uniform of the comic-opera-dictator-for-life.  il Duce  was hiding in the uniform of a lowly private soldier. He and his mistress were hung up by the heels from a Rome lamp post and beaten to death.  The linked video is accompanied by great although somewhat inappropriate music.

Recall Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceaușescu, standing on the balcony of the Presidential palace, hectoring the citizens. Suddenly he realized that the citizens were not applauding him; rather they were jeering him.

He ordered his guards to shoot the jeering citizens. The guards declined, and took him and his wife into custody. Trial followed on charges that he had ordered murder of citizens to put down a rebellion. The guilty verdict was followed by execution with machine guns in the garden of the palace, on Christmas day. The execution video was broadcast nationwide all day, day after day so the citizens could be assured that he was really dead. He had truly earned his fate.

Today in Venezuela, President Maduro (a former bus driver) has decided that the voters have made a mistake by voting his party out. He and his predecessor Chavez bankrupted a modern self-sufficient oil-rich nation by giving oil to the Castro brothers and to US Representative Joseph Kennedy III  so that Kennedy could establish himself as an activist for the poor by selling heating oil well below market prices. [New York Post, March 10, 2013].

Earlier, Chavez had ordered the army to shoot restive political opposition figures, but the generals quietly declined to kill their fellow citizens for him.

What will Maduro do now? More to the point what will the citizens do to Maduro?

What’s next for the United States? Well, Governor Abbott of Texas has proposed a Constitutional Convention of States. [Dallas Morning News, 1/10/16]

A pure democracy (not a representative democracy) makes big decisions by the voice of the loudest shouters. Outcome? Perhaps no Bill of Rights, no fifth Amendment (or any others); anything can happen. I fear that could bring much more pain that we have now, but that is not my decision to make.

If Obama and the progs gracefully surrender power after losing the Presidential election, there will still be hard feelings all around, but the Republic holds together.

There are worse possibilities.

If Obama and the progs decide to cook up a national emergency and invoke martial law, suspend habeas corpus by fiat, command nationwide travel curfews, shut down the internet and unleash the armies of the Food and Drug Administration, the Department of Agriculture, the United States Post Office and the Environmental Protection Agency on the citizens, all bets are off.

If this is Obama’s plan, he will be shocked to find that it will consume him.

Make no mistake and mark my words. I do not advocate violence as a solution to tyranny because it will end the history of the United States as a Republic ruled by law rather than by men. It creates opportunity for horrific new and unforeseen consequences.

It does have the property of removing the criminal offenders all the way from the most arrogant perfumed prince down to the merely sleazy dirtbags.

But at what price? At what cost?

Let us pray to God to guide this Nation.

Amen.

Catharsis: Head Games

It may be true that the world is filled with people seeking someone special. The process of finding that someone is theoretically simple: open your eyes, go exploring, meet people. See if there is mutual interest and proceed from there.

So simple only an engineer could do it.

In reality, it is like exploring a darkened and unfamiliar house by poking around with a pool cue held at arms-length and then trying to figure out the layout. Imprecise at best.

No real way to learn who and what is there. Sometimes nobody is there; sometimes, someone scary is there.  I don’t like Halloween horror houses for that very reason; don’t need the shock.

e-Harmony advertises; sounds like a pseudo-scientific process of using an online questionnaire to begin the seeking and then the sorting.

Its got to be more effective than what I have been doing.

I pay my money and fill out an extensive psychological profile.

A long list of the usual impossible and non-sensical profiling choice questions: do you prefer blacksmithing or skydiving? Stamp collecting or plastic surgery?  I do the best I can but am not really happy with any of the choices I had to make. I hope that this tells someone something about me.

Now, a check-off-the-boxes list of things the other party (me) must have, can have and must not have. Wow, there are some unsettling things on the “can and must not” lists. I do my best and reflect thankfully for the anonymity of the process.

Finally finished – now the system presents a group of candidates (no names) with brief preference bios and I am invited to rank them in order. More misdirection; none of these are real people. I guess all this is to weed out the tire-kickers and door-knob rattlers and leave only the really interested.

Suddenly, an unsolicited match is offered; am I willing to text back and forth?  What’s to lose? I reply, yes I am.

The conversation begins with a disclaimer; she is 50 (not a problem), has kids (maybe not a problem), smokes heavily (problem) and maybe a little deal-killer, HIV-positive. All this revealed in the interest of full disclosure.  Do I want to proceed? She will understand if I do not.

I sit and stare at the screen for a long minute.

Thanks for your honesty, but no.

No hard feelings says she, but if you change your mind, here’s my mailbox number.

Fade to black.

Next evening, my mailbox is full of bios.  Amazing.  I sift through and select a few “likelies” and fire off requests for text conversation. While I am typing, new bios appear in my inbox.

Hot dog! Now we are getting somewhere.

First reply.  She read my bio, but cannot be around dogs or birds (I have both, and stated so in my bio). Would I be able to get rid of them?

Thanks for asking, but no.  They are my family. Well, says she, you don’t have to be so uptight about it.

Next lady: works on the West coast and can be available in Houston about twice a month.  She would expect me to travel to LA a couple of weekends a month so we can share the travel.  Is there a problem with that?

It would seem to me that there must be many eligible men in LA and that would save a lot of travel for you.

Well she says that the men in LA are all pretty-boy jerks and anyway there is such a thing as too much togetherness. Long distance makes her more comfortable.  She’ll be in Houston late month. Here’s my flight schedule; please plan to pick me up at the airport.

Thanks but no say I; this doesn’t sound like a good fit for me.

You are just like all the rest, she says. Selfish, inconsiderate insecure man-child, not mature enough for a real woman. Thanks for nothing, jerk.

Whew, I guess she told me…

At last, an apparent match, worthy of a meeting on neutral ground. Single, professional north Houston lady, pets OK, has her own house.  Work keeps her busy but it has killed her social life. Likes quiet restaurants, attending plays, long drives but doesn’t get to do any of those things any more.

She asks if I have strong political beliefs. I do but I won’t let them impede a developing relationship.  Can we just talk about ourselves and leave out the politics?  We can says she.

We can meet at CompUSA and get acquainted. I think that she is comfortable that serial rapist-murderers don’t do business much at CompUSA during the day, so it is safe.

I arrive a few minutes before the appointed time, and realize I have no idea who I am looking for (drat this inexperience… I should have asked).

I walk up and down the aisles, kind-of looking at products on the shelves.  After a while, I realize that I am seeing the same lady over and over, also looking around but not selecting anything to buy.  Either she is the loss-control officer about to arrest me or she is the lady I am here to meet.

Are you Ellen? Instead of replying, she asks “Who are you?”

I’m Don. Glad to meet you, says she.

Thanks for meeting me, would you like to go have a coffee and we can talk?

OK she says, I’ll drive my car there.

Thus the security dance is performed.

At the coffee shop, coffee ordered; awkward silence follows.

Icebreaker: tell me about yourself. You first she says.

I elaborate on the e-Harmony bio and add personal and family and job details.

OK, she says. Her husband passed a couple of years ago, she has no children and no pets.  She works in the County Attorney’s office and between that and political activism, she has no time.  She is in a rut.

What are my politics?

We agreed no politics; yes, she says, we did.

Awkward silence resumes.  Her face shows that she is clearly wrestling with something.

A penny for your thoughts, say I.

How can you just sit there hiding your politics?

My politics take a back seat to developing a relationship; we can discuss politics later if we find that we have other mutual interests.  She grudgingly agrees.

We meet for lunch on the weekend.  Lunch does not go well; she is concerned that since I won’t talk politics that I have something to hide, something I am ashamed of.

I assure her that is not the case, but she says she cannot relate to a secretive person.

I thankfully pay the bill and head home.  The birds chitter and coo, and the dogs lounge around on me lovingly.

So ends Catharsis Act IV.