Why So Serious?

(An Explanitary Note: While reading this essay, there are a few things to keep in mind. Firstly, I understand that the view I espouse changed drastically from the beginning to the end of this brief piece. My opinion stated at the end is more strongly heald than the opinion at the beginning. Second, if the tone of this piece feels weird, that is intentional.... I've been reading a lot of horror fiction, and that has been influencing a lot of what I write. Given that this is about American politics, I thought the tone was fitting. Third, this essay also uses a lot of metaphor and allusion, and I understand if it seems vauge and disjointed. Personally, I find this tack of writing more artistic. However, if you have any questions about the meaning of this essay, please just post in the comments below.)

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Ok.... time to offend people, not necessarily intentionally, but I feel like this needs to be said. Let’s see... how do I put this.... 

I’m not voting.

Yes, I said it. Let the name calling begin! “You’re not Christian! You’re un-American! You’re lazy! You’re racist! You’re not fulfilling your *insert random cultural affiliation here* duty!” Yes, yes... I am a terrible, horrible human being.

But before we burn the witch, let’s give him a moment to state his case:

What got me thinking about this whole thing in the first place was not the partisan, but the non-partisan, ads. The partisan ads have been stupid enough, what with the name calling, the wiretaps, the lies and blatant hyperbole playing upon American fear. Those have actually toned down quite a bit. I can only assume that both parties realized how distasteful those ads have been in our collective mouths.

For the past two weeks, however, I have seen a dramatic increase in non-partisan ads. These ads are not really directed at one party or another, but simply encourage the general public to “do their civic duty” and go vote. Many of these are directed at twenty somethings; those who (like me) are struggling to just get their footing and figure out their next move. They take the tack of “if you could take the future into your hands, why wouldn’t you? Are you too lazy? Do you just not care? How selfish of you! You could help your fellow Americans and the children of our beautiful nation by voting!”

After hearing several of these ads, I suddenly realized what a load of malarky this is. I am looking at the billets, and I see one dog turd being touted as superior than the other dog turd. My voting for one of the dog turds is supposed to make life for my fellow Americans better? I don’t follow.

Non-sequitur. Literally; that is what this election has become. There is no point anymore. All we are allowed to choose from are the better of two turds. The candidate that I would LIKE to vote for has been removed from the playing field. No matter how long and hard I point at him, our beautiful judicial system will simply shake its head and point back at the two turds on the sidewalk. 

“Choose one of these, the future of millions depends on it!”

At first I stare in confusion and utter disbelief. Then I start to snicker. It bubbles over; snorts coming out like an insane pig that has huffed too much EX. Then I cannot control it any longer. I break out into gut-tearing guffaws and keel over. It’s too much! The joke, they can’t see the joke. 

I’m the Joker laughing at Batman’s self-important scowl. “Two turds....*phhhhh*,” my joke has trouble coming out between the wheezing. I try again. “Two turds walk into a bar...” I lose it again. It’s too much... simply too much.

Batman mutters gutturally; something about how he’ll kill me if I don’t tell him where they are. I only have one reply:

“Why so serious?”

......... a long pause. Then he finally responds:

“What about the children?”

The Joker in me stops cold; choking on his own laugh. I finally sputter and spew some semblance of a response:

“What about them?” hostility in my voice.

“Are you really going to laugh this off? Millions of kids?”

THEIR BLOOD CALLS TO ME FROM THE EARTH. Another voice rocks the sidewalk I’m standing on, knocking me back and ripping holes in my nice purple suit. 

“Hey! That was my good--”

SILENCE, FOOL! 

I am cowed into submission; my lipstick red grin all but rotted off my face. I find myself looking back at the two turds on the sidewalk. At first they appear to remain unchanged, but there is...something off. Then I see it: a string as fine as spider silk buried deep in the blue turd. Walking over, I trace the string down the road. Suddenly I find myself at a strange Rube Goldberg machine of epic proportions. Its purpose seems to be well hidden amongst the levers, pulleys and gears. Marbles the size of my fist, all set to rocket into action... but for what purpose?

Then I see it: a small child strapped to a guillotine in the center of the massive contraption. He is crying... screaming. Why had I not heard him before? Suddenly, I realized the gravity of the situation. If I hadn’t heard the child, how many more could not hear him? The “choosing of the poo” was nearly decided. Millions were gathering around the two turds.

Could they not see? Could they not hear?

I was wrong... so, so wrong. Millions of lives WERE at stake. So wrong. Dear God... what have we done...?