Daniel B. Silver


Reflections from the 2012 Election

I took the day off on Tuesday, for those of you who didn’t know. And it wasn’t to pack my things for a possible emergency Canada move because, let’s face it, Brazil has WAY hotter women. Sorry, Canadian ladies, but if I was to flee to anywhere after the election of a man who believes that Jesus is gonna come back to Missouri and underpants are sacred, I would go to Brazil where I could live out the rest of my days in a hedonistic orgy of bad behavior and, well, orgies. I assume those happen there quite often. Granted, I would probably be murdered in a favela while attempting to find an open liquor store after the big ones in downtown Rio had already closed, but hey, better than having to watch a smiling cyborg tell middle class people how rich people really have their best interests in mind with the fifteen percent tax on capital gains!

I digress. Yeah, I voted. But I didn’t vote on Tuesday. I have figured out this little-known trick called the “absentee” ballot. It’s pretty cool and would do the people in Florida a world of good to sign up for it seems, because it would make that whole line-thing moot. See, they mail a ballot to your house, and you get to fill it out at your leisure. For people like me who truly hate the process of interacting with strangers and wading through mobs of people shoving their political signs in my face as I approach the local old-folks home or community gym, it’s a pretty ideal way to exercise my democratic process. And I can do it naked. This makes voting way more fun. Sometimes I just leave it up to chance if I’m unsure on a ballot initiative. I dip my wiener in ink, spin it around with my eyes closed, and then drop it down onto the ballot. Whatever arrow the wiener fills in gets my vote. Not to brag, but my dick successfully called the World Cup winner last time around but did it get any CNN airtime? Nope, it was all that freaking octopus. I don’t even think octopuses have wieners. Guess that childhood dream of being a marine biologist was a bad call.

So anyways, having already voted for the candidate who pledged to legalize ferrets as household pets and keep the government off my goddamn lawn - he was a write-in -  I made my way on Super Tuesday to the local Best Buy and waited for it to open so I could grab up a copy of Halo 4. Now, I recognize that this activity qualifies me as a huge nerd, and you should already know that I am quite comfortable with this label having been a nerd for many years, but it could be even worse; I could have gone to the midnight launch but I drank too much the night before and fell asleep early because I have gray hair and a day job – much to my chagrin on both accounts.

For those of you who follow me @DangerSilver on Twitter, you probably were positively riveted by the snarky dickheadedness of my mockery of a fellow nerd who was waiting for Best Buy to open, presumably at the time to also obtain a copy of Halo 4. I profiled him primarily by his visible discomfort with being in public and clothes that he had clearly owned since before he found out that Dominos has pasta in a bread-bowl that they will deliver to your house. As an epilogue to the tweet-saga, the fat nerd in sweatpants and crocs did in fact purchase a copy of Halo 4 with a giant smile on his face. I last saw him getting into a cab (certainly wasn’t walking anywhere far – Zing!), no doubt headed home to play the game between masturbatory sessions of cybersex on Second Life wherein I have little doubt his avatar has visible abs and does not live in his mom’s garage surrounded by discarded cans of cola and crumpled up tissues.                    

So, yeah, I bought Halo 4 and played the solo-campaign in its entirety that day from about noon to nine PM. I took a few meal breaks and walked the dog, but for the most part I pretty much failed to make any productive use of the final day of warm weather for the next ten months. But I don’t regret a minute of it because Halo 4 is frakkingawesome and yet another reason why you PS3 purists are complete morons. I mean, look, I know it’s embarrassing that the Xbox 360 doesn’t have a Blue Ray player, but you can get one of those for like fifty bucks now. Make the switch. Play some Halo. You won’t regret it – unless you don’t mute the other players on multiplayer, as I have not heard one voice insofar that would indicate to me the speaker’s testicles have descended.

As far as the election goes, I followed it on twitter with pretty much zero interest in comparison to the epic battles unfolding on my boob-tube. But I was pleased that the guy who made his fortune off the misfortunes of working Americans didn’t become the “Leader of the Free World”. And to be clear, I am no huge fan of the other guy, but at least he doesn’t lend any perceivable credence to the belief that a con-artist spoke to an angel, was given the Lord’s doctrine, lost it, and then had it happen again. (I think that’s how it went. Been a while since I read Under the Banner of Heaven - which, if you haven’t, you really need to.)

Oh yeah, then I got on twitter and told Mark Ruffalo that I only voted for the white part of Obama and people truly believed:

1.    That I was serious.

2.    That such an activity is even theoretically possible.

So I guess my point is that I’m not holding my breath that NASA is gonna have a new wave of brilliant scientists with twitter accounts anytime soon. Dwayne ElizondoMountain Dew Herbert Camacho 2016!