To my mind, the most distinctive feature of the recent presidential election was the way in which it scrambled previously-stable political coalitions. Even Mormon voters, who are perhaps more similar to one another in mindset and political views than any other religious group, found themselves opposed in ways they never thought possible: Mommy-blogger was divided against mommy-blogger, and church-baller against church-baller.
Mormon Trump voters and McMullin voters differed less in political or moral views than in the meaning they impute to the act of voting. McMullin voters (like my in-laws) seemed to think of their vote as an affirmation of their values. By withholding a vote from Trump, they were making a statement about what they consider to be acceptable behavior in a president.
Although I voted for Trump, I have no quarrel with the “endorsement” view of voting. Not one person in the whole country can say, or likely ever will be able to say, that his vote changed the result of the election. Thus, the “meaning” which we attribute to our individual vote is essentially metaphysical, and not really subject to rational argument. (more…)
His Majesty was in a happy mood this morning.
His Majesty was playing marbles with the cats this morning.
His Majesty didn’t come to breakfast the other day.
His Majesty has been much preoccupied lately.
Christmas seems to bring out the child in all of us.
So perhaps it should not have surprised me to find His Majesty playing with Tinker toys this morning.
G. tells us his muse is a goober. Mine is a crusty old retired Sith Lord.
His Majesty has been somewhat sullen at breakfast lately. Part of it was the widespread perception in the media that Cthulu did better than His Majesty in the last debate. Part of it was the season of the year: I think His Majesty suffers from a touch of SAD (Sith Affective Disorder), which flares up around this time of year, but usually passes around early January. And I figured part of it was that the Imperial tummy has been unhappy. For several days, His Majesty could hardly choke down his meals, which left him feeling bloated and suffering with heartburn for hours afterwards. He convinced himself that it was gastroparesis, which he knows has been making life miserable for a young friend of mine.
I woke to the sound of His Majesty cackling happily. He was up early and feeding nips to the cats.
His Majesty has been awfully quiet lately, but I could feeeeel the sourness swelling within him.
The other day I installed a cloak hook near the entrance of the domicile I share with His Majesty.
My cloaks can be heavy, and I also thought it might be prudent to be sure the hook could support the weight of His Majesty’s winter jacket, so I took some time to install the hook securely. I located the stud (much easier with the Force than with a stud locater, by the way) and made sure the hook was screwed firmly through the drywall into the stud. I figured it would easily hold a couple of cloaks and winter jackets.
I stood back to admire my work (funny; don’t you always do that when you finish any handyman project?) and just then His Majesty came storming through the door in a frightfully sour mood. He glanced at me, glanced at the hook, and without a moment’s hesitation he grabbed the hook and tried to swing from it. That was too much weight, of course; there was a loud crack and the hook came out of the wall, doing serious damage to the stud and drywall. In fact, since this is a load-bearing wall, the damage to the stud could wind up being a significant problem.
My jaw hit the floor, or would have, if the vocorder wasn’t in the way.
It turns out His Majesty has been thinking about original sin.
His Majesty was somewhat put out this morning.
Sometimes I wonder if there is really any hope for His Majesty.
So school teachers’ lesson plans are “trade secrets” exempt from the various Freedom of Information statutes? In a Sith’s eye!