A Few Notes

Election Day Eve, My Nephew’s Fiction

1:
Fear is a powerful motive, and so is revulsion. As I have noted in the past, up through 2016 I preferred to vote for third-party or write-in candidates in national elections, as I regarded the two major parties as constituting a single indistinguishable morass of ‘War and Wall Street’ establishment politics. Since then, I have been mechanically voting Democrat—which is to say, voting against the Republican party. This year, things became especially confusing, because the Biden administration had made the inconceivably evil determination to supply Benjamin Netanyahu all the weaponry he could possibly need in his bid to be remembered as one of the most prolific mass-murderers of his time (with only Vladimir Putin as a rival for first place). Even as the scale of the atrocity continued to expand, Joe remained undeterred in his resolve to keep the ordinance flowing while shielding the Netanyahu government from international censure. It became impossible for me to imagine voting for Biden, even though his rival for the presidency was an abomination. For the first time, I was grateful for the absurd and antiquated contrivance of the Electoral College and its essential function of rendering the vast majority of votes cast utterly meaningless. As I am now a resident of Indiana, which seems destined to remain solidly ‘red’ (according to the oddly inverted political color-scheme we adopted in 1988), I thought I had the luxury of returning to my old ways. When Biden ceded his position on the ticket to Kamala Harris, my thinking was somewhat modified. As everyone who pays attention to these things knows, the Vice Presidency is little more than a ceremonial office whose occupant does not make policy (Dick Cheney being the exception), and it was an open secret that Harris was not part of Biden’s inner circle. So, if one squinted and looked at just the right angle, it became possible to see her as a candidate not directly responsible for any of the moral failings of the administration to which she belonged. Yes, she professed perfect accord with Biden, since no VP will break with his or her administration without both creating an embarrassing conflict within the party and openly confessing that the VP’s role is an impotent one. That said, this is still Indiana. If I were in a swing state, I have told myself, or in a state that at least looks like a potential swinger, I would vote for Harris. I would do so knowing that her rival would, as president, issue Netanyahu total carte blanche. Political prudence is usually a matter of moral compromise, and so in most cases it is better to avoid such decisions as best one can; but these last eight years have made moral rigor sometimes seem immoral.

2:
I have to tell you, I am rather anxious about tomorrow, and about the days that follow. The choice we have already says several unsettling things about what we have become as a people, and the choice we ultimately make may prove far worse than merely unsettling. My advice is to avoid the news coverage and check up on things in about a week’s time.

3:
My nephew Addison (not to be confused with his father Addison, or for that matter with any of the other Addisons who proliferate through my extended family) is a writer who has been gaining a reputation in the world principally of what are called ‘micro-fictions’. He publishes under the name ‘Addison Zeller’, borrowing a surname from some part of his distaff family tree. This, I assume, is to prevent readers mistaking him for a certain other Addison Hart. I will provide links in future to various of his published pieces, but thought I might offer one here as a distraction from the tensions of the moment. I seem to remember that this one is a decade old, even if it has appeared only recently. Admittedly, it is a distraction of only twenty seconds or so, but even that may prove a slight relief.