LUDIC LOG

Today was the day I was supposed to go vote. And today, as usual, I didn't. Only this time, I had a good reason.

Okay, really, I didn't have a good reason. But for the first time in over10 years (the last time I voted was the first time I voted), I actually considered it. Having registered to vote (a "suggestion" by my union) and borne the terrible consequences (a jury summons arrived mere weeks later), and having been bombarded with unsolicited advice from my well-meaning liberal friends, I must confess: I really thought about it. I'm unemployed, I have nothing else to do, it's a nice day if you ignore the rain and the cold: why not walk over to Horner Park and vote? After all, the anarchist pose is getting tiresome. And you earn the right to complain by voting. Tom Tomorrow said so.

But in the end, I still don't buy it. I still couldn't make that walk of shame. My participation in the 'who'll fuck us next?" sweepstakes is going to have to wait for another day. I somehow haven't been convinced of the rightness of the scolder's cliche; I think you lose the right to complain. If your candidate rips America a new one, what right have you got to complain? You put him there. And if it's the other candidate wins, you can't complain about that, either: your vote is an admission that you think voting is the way to go. Why cavil when things don't go your way? Saying that you earn your right to complain by participating in the process is like saying you can't criticize Wal-Mart unless you shop there, or saying you can't bitch about the bank that's foreclosing on your house until you've done an internship in their financial services department. It's an admission that the people who make the rules are legitimately in control of the game, and that your only choices are the ones they present to you.

I, on the other hand, have nothing to do with the process, and therefore have every right to complain. The betrayals of both parties are not my responsibility and therefore I can complain about them without qualm. (Spare me the observation that my "ethical" stance happily allows me to be lazy. Voting takes five minutes of time, one day every two years. This level of laziness is beneath my dignity.) It's a tough decision sometimes; I am often (as I was today) tempted to vote simply because not doing so means one less vote in opposition to the truly evil people who often get elected in this country. But that's a weak, weak reason; it's akin to buying a ticket to "Scary Movie II" so it doesn't go in the box that someone else went to see "Charlie's Angel's". Once again, it's an admission that you can only choose what you're given.

I still went for my walk, in the opposite direction of Horner Park. The way there took me to McFettridge Sports Complex, where I had a nice workout; the way back took me to 7-11, where I had a tasty Slurpee. When I got home, there was a note on my door reading: "LEONARD PIERCE! You still have not voted! Polls are open until 7:00 PM." I went upstairs, secure in the knowledge that I'd made the right choice. Anything that they come to your house to remind you to do probably isn't worth doing.