Election Day – Mad Blog Media

Don't just do something, sit there. After you've voted, of course. — Don’t just do something, sit there. After you’ve voted, of course.

The big day has finally come.

Here in the Land of Entrapment 40.7 percent of registered voters cast their ballots early, for good or ill. Elsewhere, The Hilldebeast has already claimed victory over Insane Clown Pussy (4-2, in Dixville Notch, N.H.)

Now we wait for the returns to come trickling in from everywhere else.

I got my Bill Hicks on last night as a sort of tuneup, the way you might have a couple pops before the party gets started, and he dropped a name I wish I’d heard earlier in the campaign — “Beelzebozo.”

Bill was referring to himself, having just paused in the midst of an epically filthy tirade to announce that he was “available for children’s parties.” But it seems better suited to the GOP’s standard-bearer, a truly evil clown, and I regret stumbling across it so late in the game.

I voted early, and for The Hilldebeast, and all y’all should be well aware by now that I was not excited about it. This was my 12th election, and in all those outings I have only voted for two candidates — George McGovern and Barack Obama. In all those other elections I was voting against someone, as is the case this time around.

Over the long, long years I have pulled the lever for Democrats, socialists, independents and libertarians, but never for a Republican, and this was not the year for experimentation along those lines. This was another delaying action, what Steve Earle called “getting into gear for four more years/of things not getting worse.” Or so we hope, anyway.

For those of who who have the liberty to follow the election news throughout the next two days, both The New York Times and The Washington Post have pulled down their digital firewalls and you may browse their sites to your hearts’ content. Keep one eye aimed squarely down-ballot. It would be useful to reclaim majorities in the House and Senate; a dozen governors’ gigs are likewise up for grabs, as are a right shitload of seats in state legislatures, on school boards, you name it.

To paraphrase Pat Frank, the battle for America is being lost in counties like Bernalillo. Remember that while the barking carny up front holds your attention, his minions are working the rubes, lifting wallets.

Me, I’ll be spending a fair amount of time bringing the snark on Twitter. But check back here for the occasional pithy observation if you’re so inclined.

• 9:30 a.m. — Kevin Drum at Mother Jones weighs in with his predictions: “So my final guess is: Hillary Clinton wins by 4.7 percent in the popular vote; the Senate ends up 51-49 Democratic; and the House ends up 235-200 Republican.”

• 11:55 a.m. — Agent Orange is already suing people, beginning with the registrar of Clark County, Nevada, over something the registrar is required by law to do (leave voting stations open for all those who were in line when the station was scheduled to close). A Nevada judge gives this the hee, and also the haw.

• 12:05 p.m. — The Atlantic is live-blogging today’s election.

Sam and I horsing around in the hills north of El Rancho Pendejo. It was a little late in the day and the lighting left a little something to be desired.

• 4:15 p.m. — Took five to shoot a little video of the Sam Hillborne. OK, so it was more than five. More like 90. It was a beautiful afternoon and I don’t regret a single solitary second of it.

• 4:25 p.m. — Voting is said to be going smoothly in the Duke City and its environs. My favorite quote so far comes from registered nurse Nanette Vela, who told the Albuquerque Journal: “Hillary was not my first choice, but voting for Trump would be like voting for myself, because I don’t completely understand how government works, either.”

• 4:35 p.m. — Insane Clown Pussy has regained control of his Twitter account. We can only hope that this is akin to seizing the wheel of a pirate ship shot full of holes and taking on water fast.

• 4:52 p.m. — Funny you should mention it: Kellyanne Conway is already sniveling that ICP didn’t have the full support of his party, merely because he was stark raving mad. I’m sure her résumé is already making the rounds.

• 5:28 p.m. — Live chat from The New York Times.

• 6:04 p.m. — Clinton takes my birth state, Maryland. That my brother-in-law left the state for a job in Florida may have been pivotal. Now we’ll have to see what that does to the tally in Florida.

• 6:15 p.m. — Marco Polo Rubio wins re-election to the job he dislikes so much. Don’t expect him to keep it long. 2020 is just around the corner.

Click the image for the Election Day edition of Radio Free Bibleburg. — Click the image for the Election Eve edition of Radio Free Bibleburg.

. . . pun intended, the first Tuesday in November being a day on which we are invited to stick it to ourselves via the ballot box.

I just wrapped up my civic duty, voting the straight Democratic Party ticket, croaking all amendments, propositions and city-county questions devised by tea-baggers, Industrial Christians and other asshats, and retaining one judge I know personally from having endured jury duty in his courtroom.

Herself votes via mail-in ballot, but I enjoy walking the five blocks to the polling place and gauging the mood of the electorate. Plus it’s a beautiful fall morning day in scenic oligarchical Bibleburg and I’ll grab any excuse to get outdoors before the snow finally shows.

Poll workers said the turnout had been strong all morning, and at least one of them was getting anxious about the potential crush come lunchtime.

Of course, this being Bibleburg, I’m not certain whether this is good news or bad news.

• 6:15 p.m.: The polls are still open here in Colorado, so the bad news is so far coming from elsewhere. NPR just aired a few moments of frothing tea-bagger talking points from the insane fuckwit Rep. Mike Pence, R-Indiana, which caused me to dash out and buy a bottle of Chamucos Reposado tequila as a palliative. Good sites to keep an eye on for real news, if you’re into self-flagellation, are Steve Benen’s Political Animal and Josh Marshall’s Talking Points Memo.

• 6:30 p.m.: If one of my readers would be so kind as to send me money for airfare (cash, no checks, please), I’d be happy to jet off to NPR HQ and slap the mortal shit out of Melissa Block and Robert Siegel behind the microphones. They and their correspondents are entirely too giddy for my taste this evening.

• 6:45 p.m.: It’s the economy, stupid. And the GOP talking points. If you believe NPR, the electorate is buying what the GOP is selling, which would not surprise P.T. Barnum, H.L. Mencken or Hunter S. Thompson.

• 7 p.m.: The polls just closed here in Colorado, so we’re braced for evil tidings. Well, I am, anyway. Herself is at the movies with a neighbor, knowing that this is the time of night when I commence to march around the house yelling shit shit shit and scaring the cats. Meanwhile, The New York Times has managed to piss me off with a banner hed that reads “Tea Party Victories Propel Republican Gains in Senate,” when only one seat has been called as switching hands; the Elefinks need 10. Shit shit shit.

• 7:15 p.m.: No more NPR for me, thanks. I’ve croaked the audio and placed my faith in Al Gore’s Innertubes, as God intended. The early news from The Denver Post is that Donks Michael Bennet (Senate) and John Hickenlooper (governor) are looking good, with 2 percent of precincts reporting. Two percent. Where’d I put that Chamucos?

• 7:30 p.m.: Bennet and Hick’ still looking good with 4 percent reporting. More of the same unsupported jabber from the NYT. The WaPo site appears to be in spaz mode. More servers in the ol’ farm for those of us trapped in flyover country, please.

• 7:45 p.m.: OK, we’re clearly stuck in a holding pattern here. I may be forced to resort to television. Meanwhile, I’m off to cook dinner before I lose my appetite. Or my life, if Herself comes home to a kitchen with no vittles in it.

• 9:15 p.m.: OK, the Post is saying Brewmaster Hick’ is gonna be Colorado’s next governor. This I will drink to. Incidentally, in case you had any doubts based on the previous update, I’m still alive. Breaded pork chops did the trick. This was a deliberate election-night menu choice, my reasoning being: Eat the pig before the pig eats you.

• 10 p.m.: The NYT is saying the Pachyderms have the House. The Senate appears out of the Elefinks’ reach for now, but the members of The World’s Greatest Deliberative Body® will all be occupied with running for president for the next two years, so it doesn’t much matter who’s calling the shots over there. Speaking of shots, mmmmmm, tequila. A la chingada con tu y tus amigos gabachos, Tomás Tancredo.

• 10:15 p.m.: Well, since neither breaded swine nor cactus whiskey seems to be moving this election along, I’m gonna call it a night, since the news can only get worse. Plus Herself has a real job that requires (a) early rising and (2) an Irish-American serving up breakfast in the kitchen (what is this, Russia?). Meanwhile, try to look on the bright side — some day, we’ll all be dead.

Tag: Election Day

The levers of power

It’s Erection Day . . .