Navigating Election Day angst
First, if you haven’t already, vote. Between the hours of 10 p.m. and midnight tonight, results of the midterm elections will begin coming in. Yes, I hope you're stressed. I am too. I’ve been trying to figure out the right move to make as I fearfully watch 538, and here are the options I've come up with for this evening of either revelry or deep despair:
- Like me, you may be in a cubicle on the 3rd floor of the Rock when the results start coming in, because school. I’d tell you to not constantly check nytimes.com instead of writing your paper, but that’s what I’m going do. Your blood pressure will suffer, but you will come out well-informed on the intricacies of Louisiana’s 3rd district, and with none of your history paper completed.
- Grab a handle of something fun, go to that friend-who-has-a-tv’s room, and slowly drink yourself silly to Wolf Blitzer’s soothing melody.
- Fellow blog writer Paul played a game in 2016 in which his friend had to eat an entire flan for every swing state Trump won. It’s 2018, so I ask that you eat an alarmingly-green pistachio “yesterday” muffin from the Blue Room every time CNN says it has “BREAKING NEWS.”
- Find the nearest room with a Che Guevera poster on the wall and reminisce fondly about the October Revolution’s 101st Anniversary. None of this matters until the workers unite.
- Ignore everything, and continuously watch Justin Trudeau say, “Because it’s 2015.” Then tell everyone that you're going to move to Canada, but don’t, because no matter what happens tomorrow night, we’re never out of the fight.
Starting around midnight, major networks should begin calling results. If a blue wave appears imminent, and democracy is making a comeback, I present the following songs to revel in:
Soak up Bruce Springsteen’s beautiful critique of the Vietnam War, and make fun of those who still think its patriotic.
Because nothing gets Gen Z hyped like a Mr. Brightside scream sesh. Jump a lot. If the party of Trump and Putin is making a comeback, I present the necessary angst to maybe sorta get you through:
Listen to Thom Yorke’s blissful falsetto, and remember that Bush was president when this was recorded. Beauty is out there, and it only gets better. Wait for Jonny’s guitar solo, and then start crying.
“Love’s my President, my lord, and my boss.” See you on the other side. Editor's Note: This post reflects the views of the individual blogger, not the Blognonian as a publication.