I would like to cast my vote for an empty Oval Office for four years. Give us all a rest. Let Congress do it’s job without line-item vetoes. Let the troops, wherever they happen to be, figure out what the best idea is without some idiot in Washington inventing wars for them to die fighting, pointing at spots on the map full of people for them to kill. No more hypocritical, demoralizing speeches. No more talking heads and flapping lips blathering about his every move and word. No more state dinners. No more photo-ops with Girl Scouts. No more press secretary juggling lies like Barnum and Bailey’s best.
Let people tour the White House as a museum of national relics and oddities. “Here is where the President once drank coffee. Here is where he once ate sandwiches. Here is where he plotted the assassination of foreign leaders. Here is where he went to the bathroom. That was back when we had a President. Now, if we want something done, we get together and figure out how to do it ourselves.”
I wish I could cast a vote for an empty Oval Office. I would campaign for that. I would work a phone bank for that. I would donate to that.
As it is, I’ll grudgingly cast my vote for what looks like a minimal evil, have a nice meal to get the sick feeling out of my stomach, and get on with enduring the vast miasma of lies, hypocrisy, waste and stupidity that we call a government, hoping against hope that it will do nothing, that it will leave it to the rest of us to get done what has to get done, knowing all the while that nowhere, at no time, in no place, do human beings refrain from using every shred of power they are able to wrest from others.