It’s Tempting, Though It Wouldn’t Stop Trump

First, see this and subsequent tweets (just scroll down).

Now, one option is to write in my most preferred candidate — assuming Georgia’s voting machines provide the option. I suspect they won’t.

Next is to vote for a ticket that’s on the ballot that’s most closely aligned with my views. There really isn’t any such ticket, especially if the Constitution Party’s effort fails.

Finally, there’s strategic voting, which depends for its effectiveness on everyone else who dislikes the felon and the orangutan voting the same way — or at least, enough of them.

The idea is to deny either ticket the required 270 Electoral Votes, which would throw the election to the House. Which will put Trump in the White House, unfortunately. But…

It would be the Beltway GOP establishment’s fingerprints all over that outcome, not the voters’; the fact Trump couldn’t win at the ballot box would be obvious to everyone. Maybe, just maybe, it would abash the Beltwayites to have to drag the orangutan across the finish line in front of the disapproving eyes of the Lamestream Media. Much would depend on how many normally red states rejected the Trump ticket because of these protest votes.

This is why today on Twitter, I endorsed the looney-tunes “Libertarian” ticket.

It may be as bad a ticket as the Idiocrats and the Retrumplicans have foisted on the country, but we wouldn’t be trying to elect them — and even if somehow we did, it still wouldn’t be any worse than electing Trump or Clinton, while emphasizing the message to the GOPe even more.

I’m not saying this is what I’ll do, but I’ll be giving it some very serious thought over the next three and a half months. I’d suggest you do the same.

Update, the very next day: Damn. Between the revelations in the Wikileaks hack, and the implications that strengthen the claim of a Trump-Putin connection, I am now saying this is what I’ll do. I’m even at the point where I actually would like to see the Johnson-Weld ticket win. At least the Libertarians appear to be controlled by Americans, rather than Iranians or Russians.

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This Isn’t What They Mean by That

Been wondering why I sometimes wake up with dry eyes that can’t focus properly without eyedrops, but this morning I think I found out.

Apparently I’ve sometimes been sleeping with my eyes, or at least one eye, open (insert cowboy-in-Indian-country joke here), and this morning it happened while I was dreaming. So I dreamed I was awake, in my bedroom, but unable to see anything except what I, still asleep in bed, happened to be looking at.

When you blink and move your eyes, and your head, and even sit up and try to get out of bed, but all you can see is the slightly tilted image of your bedside lamp, you begin to think something might be wrong.

Oh, and what “woke” me in my dream was a loud, repetitive whump that I couldn’t locate, and which didn’t change in intensity no matter what I did — but it was my disobedient eyes that eventually drew my full attention. I’d actually forgotten the noise until it stopped. When I woke up for real, still looking at my bedside lamp. And when I looked away from my lamp then, I saw… things other than my lamp! It was a miracle!

This was another of those “sleep paralysis” dreams I’ve been having on rare occasions throughout my adult life. I’d long since realized they were merely dreams, and now I suspect they happen because my eyes open in that particular sleep state. Most previous occasions it’s been in the deep darkness of late night or much earlier morning, but if, say, my eyes in that sleep state are hugely dilated, that could explain why the things I remember seeing during such a dream didn’t look as unlit as they did once I came full awake.

Also, since subjective time in a dream is different from waking time, my eyes may have been stiller and thus getting a longer exposure, creating an illusion of more light in the room.

So anyway, as soon as I realized that my eyes felt all scratchy again, I reached for the eyedrops and there was, once again, not a dry eye in the house.

Oh, and the noise? Just my heartbeat.

The Key Word Was “Such”

The last line of this post might have misled those who parse language sloppily.

The laying of curses is a purely rhetorical exercise. No actual attempt is made to ensure the desired fate occurs — at least, not by the person laying the curse. All he is doing is inviting the universe to right itself slightly by imposing an outcome on the cursed, entirely independent of human agency.

The universe, of course, keeps its own counsel on how it will right itself, or whether it will. And with seven billion people casually cursing one another on a daily basis it may be hard for it to keep track. Especially if the curses are received and stored on an unsecured private server in somebody’s bathroom (with or without a leopard to beware of).

All that being said, while I have reasons enough to think Mike Pence is an untrustworthy POS, I could see myself voting, this November, for a presidential ticket where he occupied the top spot.

Because your run-of-the-mill untrustworthy POS is neither a flatulent orangutan nor an unindicted serial felon. In 2016 we’re all lowering our expectations.

I Ain’t Mowin’ That

While we were in Wyoming, Mrs. McG and I briefly considered making a day out of getting Idaho onto her life list. She’s never been there, and for me it’s been a solid 50 years; my brother and I along with Mom, her younger sister and a trio of cousins all traveled up from Los Angeles to Mom’s birthplace in Montana to visit Nana, and our path took us through Las Vegas, a corner of Arizona, straight up through Utah, and across eastern Idaho.

As you might imagine, I don’t remember much about the trip, having not yet started kindergarten…

Autumn in the Tetons

Anyway, we ran the numbers and judged that it would be a really long day getting there and back to where we were staying. An upside was that it would involve finally getting to see the Grand Tetons with our own eyes, rather than having to settle for pictures and video.

We decided not to wear ourselves out just for the chance to buy gas and use a restroom in the Gem State and turn right around and head back. Some other time, Tetons.

Meanwhile, the background image (since replaced, but preserved in this post, above) is of Grand Teton herself, fronted with aspens in their fall foliage and (I assume) Jackson Lake in the foreground. You should be able to make out the copyright watermark in the upper right; I found the picture in a Google image search for Wyoming aspens in the fall, shown first. Deserves it.

Whose Party Is It Anyway?

Whether the delegates mutiny next week or behave like the docile livestock Loser Trump demands, will determine the answer to that question.

Meanwhile the only party with actual Republicans on its ticket is the Libertarian — and they’re libertarians like Joseph Goebbels was a B’nai B’rith supporter.

I hold out no hope for the convention outcome in Cleveland. The Retrumplicans are now proud to be a wholly owned subsidiary of the Idiocrats. To Cleveland with them both.

Update, July 15: We didn’t have to wait until next week to determine that the GOP still belongs to the GOP Establishment which, having dissolved its base and elected another, quashed any hope of the convention’s Rules Committee allowing a floor vote on whether delegates bound to Loser Trump could vote their consciences in the first round. Conscience is against their religion.

If they were trying to put Hillary Clinton in the White House I cannot imagine what they would be doing different. It used to be that fundraising off Democrat rule was GOPe’s Plan B. Now it’s Plan A.

Bittersweet

By the last day of vacation I’m always looking forward to getting home. Not so much this time.

While I miss the creature comforts that await in the house that is my current abode, what I wish is that they were here, so I wouldn’t have to go back there to revert to something like a normal life.

Departure will be purely corporeal. My soul will stay.