A pit is a pit

Harry Drabik

My final parking place will be a pit, smaller by far than the water filled one outside my door, but a pit no less.

I find it a leveling proposition that the pitiless and pitiable end ashes or toes up; equal outcomes for all. But why be maudlin when there’s such cheer all about?

Just the other day I masked up for my weekly grocery event and arrived home only to find the item I clearly recalled putting in my sanitized cart wasn’t there. The lost sheep (figurative language as no sheep should be unfortunate enough to have me as guardian) not found in bags or car, back I went. But instead of grousing about the extra trip it hit me most delightfully this senility thing was like a new lease on life.

The missing grocery item became an adventure and mystery. Who’d have expected that of cans of soup or whatever?

Senility, my eyes open wide in anticipation, might prove grand as toddler days when toy cars on carpets were larger than life. And if not I’ll happily take no notice.

Other things are noticed. Let me take you back a bit.

Remember the was-it-news showing the smirking teen putting his face before an elderly native’s drum?
Boys the teen’s age commonly look like idiots because they’re built firmly upon exactly that plan and have all the chaotic energy to prove it. And even though there are lofty notions standing ready to stamp it out, respect for our elders is (or at least was) a common value.

So with a kid looking stupidly guilty and the elderly man could appear the aggrieved party. The shame of it all, as the creepy newsy sellers served it to us.

Well, it looked bad. It looked awful. Snotty (a sexist insult of long standing) teen insulting tribal elder was an attention-winning theme with the newsy seller’s usual devotion to falsehood glibly included with the newsy seller’s unseen smirk of success an added bonus.

As an attention-getting fraud it worked well because (gasp with me) too few were ready to ask a simple “What?”

No matter how idiocy prone the teen might be, it’s unlikely (stay with me) he’ll rebel in an attitude of kissing a drum held before his face.

The question newsy sellers skipped over in favor of a juicer pulp-free product was this. Who was the aggressor?

In other words who was encroaching on whom?

The newsy version was as if I were to show you a photo of a blackened eye labeled “Result of Pacifist Facial Assault on Opponent’s Fist” and expect you to side with the poor fist being sorely hammered by an opponent’s face.

What was going on between the teen and the elderly native was likely of more value or interest than the concoction.

When supposed news comes more and more to resemble fiction we’d best up our daily doses of skepticism as we do the slick used car seller telling us “Runs great” as a cloud billows behind the test drive.

Yes, be skeptical. If we’re not we might not know what pit will end up in and find it, like senility, a place from which escape is not at all likely.

First step to avoiding a pit trap is spot the trap.

Step two is don’t accept it.

I’ll example this with words for both the Abrams and Trump camps of election contesting. That pit’s a trap as endlessly miring as who killed JFK. Stay the hell out of it.

Even if you have what you see of think is ample evidence the pit won’t suddenly unmire you.

An electoral challenge in the courts would span multiple administrations and make a good many barristers quite happy, better fed, and families well cared for.

I’d tell Clinton, Abrams, or Trump the same thing. “Fair or foul, you lost. Drop it.”

One thing alone will for me improve their value. What’s that?

One thing only and that’s secure elections decided cleanly. Any party seeing an advantage in gray areas will sooner or later be out grayed by someone slicker with a notion to count the votes of the unborn as cast by their respective hosts.

And wouldn’t it be a whoop of fun deciding voting rights for the not-yet with the same expectation of grand success and agreement we have on trimesters and etc.?

Unborn voting rights can expand election cycles for decades if we’re lucky, in the meantime courts of deciders could stand in for the not yet officially elected. An elected individual might die before being able to take office, but that’s 100% OK because I have a plan to accommodate that.

As some numbers of dead vote now, let’s continue the practice with an expanded dead voter roll. What, I ask you, could be more reliable politically than the votes of dead voters?

Politicians take notice. There’s opportunity here. If you’re cunning and savvy as you ought to be you’ll see the doors of promise open wide for election of the dead to fill elected posts. We know the unreliability of living officials. That’s not a problem with the dead, plus they are available for round-the-clock duty with no need of sleep, meals, recreation, or vacations.

Dead officials contain no surprises, are absolutely reliable, and a total bargain. In a side-by-side with living politicos it would often be difficult to tell living from dead.

Well, wait, that’s not true. I’d hope dead officials would make less noise and do less harm. Just a hope, sadly.

Neither common sense nor stupidity has a color. Both are abundant in all hues. The distinction seems to be this. While logic and good sense are often in short supply the production of stupidity more than keeps up with demand.

World peace is a great goal. To achieve it a single power has to first conquer the world.

See, that’s simple, peace through world conquest. The peace bringer has to make sure their conquest is total and complete, but in a world pacified that should be easy don’t you think?