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Greetings, this midsummer evening. I hope you're well and that the little things are mattering in your life. By the way, I'm not sure "mattering" is a word. If it is, it might mean something quite different, for instance, inadvertent skin shedding. An example would be, "Someone mattered on the loveseat. No more half shirts in the house, kids."

As much as we're thankful for the little things that keep us going, there are also those big things, or the things that are consequential to all of us. A prime example is the presidential race.  It's played out like a Hulu TV series, but unlike a show that streams weekly, this one puts out a new episode every day, including weekends. Think House of Cards without a predatory star in ManSpanx. 

Season 1:

The president of the United States (and protagonist, whom we'll call Joe) must come to grips with a precipitous decline in his mental and physical abilities. Joe will be the first to admit that he's lost a step or two, but he believes he's misunderstood and that frankly, his pale, tottering meat suit is all that stands between democracy and tyranny. In his view, people have suddenly forgotten his numerous presidential accomplishments and the five-decade body of work preceding it. Still, in the face of plunging poll numbers, Joe appears incapable of seeing what we, the movie watcher, can clearly track: the man is slipping quickly. 

But Joe's got one more chance, one last shot to reverse his fortunes. He's always savored his role as underdog and he's typically been a decent debater. He's no orator, but his populist opponent can barely string a sentence together and prefers to communicate in ideological sound bites. Joe welcomes this test of his Scranton grit. A solid performance could silence his critics once and for all. 

Joe bombs in the debate. Even his opponent is stunned and Joe is humiliated. He knew what he wanted to say, he just couldn't get it out. Days later, his opponent survives an assassination attempt, followed by a coronation at his party's convention. At 48%, he's never enjoyed a higher favorability rating. Politically speaking, things have never looked darker for Joe.

His closest allies urge him to reconsider his candidacy. Joe now faces a decision. The decision. In a soft, mildly hoarse tone, Joe tells us that he's got an announcement to make.

End, Season 1

After years of anxiety regarding Joe's future plans, I haven't felt this optimistic in a long time. And is it just me, or didn't Joe always seem like the perfect stopgap solution, as opposed to a long-term answer? 

Here are some things I've been wrong about:

• Lance Armstrong is a good guy.  

• I can jump over that double railroad tie.

• Today's the day I'll find something new and delicious at Safeway.

• That Hasselhoff can act.

• The ants will go away. 

• I won't worry about peeing before I leave.

But I don't think I'll be wrong in thinking that Kamala is going to win.

The party of Lincoln is currently out of the office.

Happy November! I do love the fall. Even if it's as murky and cold as leftover moose au jus, there's a lot to be excited about. The holidays are looming, a joyous season of revelry and salty lard. 

And football—football, America's premier celebration of conquest and domination, is in full swing, even on Thursdays! Okay, it's not lost on me that staging Thursday night games, usually only four days after a team's previous game, can be hazardous to these players' health. My best argument against that, I suppose, is that I really enjoy watching football on Thursday night so they should definitely keep having these games.

How are things going in your orbit? Family's good? Job's bearable? Bladder's not screaming out like a chafing toddler with double pinkeye?

Good, good. Glad we're all on some decent footing here. Because I am nervous as shit about next Tuesday. Actually, I don't even know if "nervous" describes the emotion. Other languages include words describing more nuanced meanings than English can accommodate, words like backpfeifengesicht, which is German for "punchable face". Here's how you might see it used in a sentence: "Der Müzzerfücher Drumpf hat das backpfeifengesicht." Then you're supposed to pick your nose with your left hand and drink.

If there is a word anywhere that describes the unprecedented fear of democracy's imminent death, it defines the feeling that takes up a nice portion my current emotional baseline. The election of 2020 provided a little bit of a respite, an opportunity to crank the timer back a little. But we knew this was coming, and now, here we are. 

In the aftermath of January 6, 2021, who would have predicted that the instigator of it would be the GOP's capobanda going into the midterms? Who didn't think the guy was toast? That's when I realized it's not about him, it's about his voters and their grievances. They're pissed and they want blood. Even so, are there enough of these voters to actually defeat democracy? 

Definitely in some places, which is frightening. Couldn't you see Ron DeSantis seizing dictatorial powers in Florida? I can imagine him forcing school kids to wear little military uniforms with those white shiny rain boots that he likes. 

Or Ted Cruz could attempt to wield his newfound fascist authority by requiring everyone in America to watch his hilarious new sitcom, Teddy Didn't Do It. Turns out he's a natural when paired with Esther, the Giggling Goat. 

In truth, there's nothing funny about these people. Some present themselves as religiously oppressed conspiracy believers with little to no critical thinking skills and a profound distrust for mainstream media and factual data, while others come across as little more than crafty sociopaths attempting to slake their insatiable thirst for power by any means necessary. The party of Lincoln has gone the way of bubble gum ice cream with real bubble gum in it.

Okay, well, on that note, have a nice day. 

Holy shit, what times we live in. I do hope that, whatever happens, wherever you are, you are healthy and happy and that you're able to turn this shit off every once in a while. Unfortunately, the Nazis will still be there when you get back. There's still a lot to be grateful for, like you, and it's something I need to remind myself of from time to time. Thanks for listening.