“You hold a thing behind your back,” says Lovely She to He.
“I do, indeed, and that’s a fact,” says Handsome He to She.
“Then please, my love, you’ll kindly close those tender, lovely eyes,
and then I’ll take you by the hand and show you my surprise.”
“What is it, then? Do show me, quick!
“I love a treat or boon or trick.”
Says He, “You know what day’s today?”
Says She, “I do. It’s Sweethearts’ Day.”
“Spot on! It’s true. We’re both agreed.
“So, there’s a clue, if such you need.” …
As everyone who isn’t living in a sealed vault at the bottom of the Marianas Trench knows, we’re now in the midst of the End Times. Or, at least, a period that seems pretty darned End-Times-adjacent.
It’s this annoying coronavirus thing, sure. But not just that. I’m really talking about the whole nerve-jangling hell storm of apocalyptic madness we’re enduring: riots in the streets, “1984”-ish mind vomit being spewed as normal discourse, cult worship of the The Dunce Who Would Be King (whose name shall not be uttered here, except to say it sounds a lot like Chump). …
What’s to be done about a country that holds itself up as the world’s gold standard for free and fair elections, yet throws out half the votes its people cast for president every four years?
It’s a jarring notion, but the data tells the story. Consider the 15 presidential elections from 1960 to 2016. On average, based on figures from the U.S. House of Representatives Archives, about 50 percent of the popular votes cast for America’s top federal executive in those contests were not reflected in the electoral vote, and this by official policy.
Jerry Spriggs deems this a form…
Steve Toft is a journalism major, a work-from-home technical trainer and a regular guy from Portland, Oregon.