The Sun Will Come Out, Tomorrow

The Election is on Tuesday.

All of Washington, D.C. is abuzz.   

All of Washington D.C. is rooting for Clinton.

Well, OK, not all of Washington, D.C. is abuzz, but pretty much everyone here who is talking much about the election is rooting passionately for Clinton.  Many, like me, will say the election is already in the bag.  Many others purport to be nervous that Trump will pull out a victory.  Given the odds of that happening, they must think that a Trump victory would be really, really, really, really dangerous.  Because honestly, his chances of winning are really, really small.

I appreciate that by all rights, I’m supposed to tell you this weekend why it would be the worst thing in the history of the universe if Trump won.   And that you would need an IQ under 40 to justify voting for anyone but Clinton.   (“A vote for anyone but Clinton is a vote for Trump,” people like to say in these parts.)   Perhaps, as a blogger, I’m also supposed to strive this weekend to author my own little takedown of Trump to show that I can slice and dice him with more aplomb than other writers.   I have in mind a little something like the following, which was penned by Charles Krauthammer – a conservative Republican, no less – and appeared in Friday’s Washington Post:

“At a time of such tectonic instability, even the most experienced head of state requires wisdom and delicacy to maintain equilibrium.  Trump has neither.  His joining of supreme ignorance to supreme arrogance, combined with a pathological sensitivity to any perceived slight, is a standing invitation to calamitous miscalculation.”

KPOW!  THWACK!  SPLATT!  ZAMM!  ZOWIE!!!!

Some people still get a perverse pleasure from trying to figure out new and different ways to call Trump a douche-bag.    Not me.  I’m just sick of hearing about him.  And Hillary.  And this election.  For that matter, I’m sick of all this election cycle’s TV spin doctors as well as all the op-ed writers who can’t stop writing the same column week after week.  For that matter, I’m sick of hearing people talk as if they can mathematically prove that their political views are objectively better than other people’s.  And I’m really sick of the idea that the sky will fall if you don’t vote for the candidate whom your interlocutor prefers.  

On Tuesday, I will vote for Hillary Clinton.  I expect her to win by a significant margin in the Electoral College.  But if for some reason the highly unexpected happens, as it can in life, and Trump ekes out a Bush/Gore-like victory, I will still be proud to be an American.

I don’t lose my faith in God every time there’s an earthquake or a tsunami.   And I don’t lose my faith in America every time I disagree with a plurality of its electorate.  

Besides, if you want to worry about real tragedies, regardless of this election’s outcome, the probability is high that our government won’t do much to stem the changes in our world’s climate, which remains a far greater threat to life on Earth than anything else the candidates have been squawking about.   The poor folks who live in desert areas of Asia and Africa have a whole lot more reason to talk like Chicken Little than the residents of DC, New York or San Francisco.