Run For Your Life

 It's here!

Not Election Day, but a reasonable facsimilie!

Halloween lets us know that life is scary, creepy things happen all the time, and the dead walk the earth. Most of them wearing red baseball hats. 

I have spent the last year feeling low level anxiety about the race for the White House, but over the past month or so it has ramped up to full-on terror. I find myself repeating the phrase, "It's only a movie," under my breath. 

I have been told for months now that this is the most important election of my lifetime. That lifetime that includes the election and re-election of such notables as Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan and George W. Bush. I also bore witness to the defeat of the first major party female presidential candidate, and we know how that ended up. The idea that this low-charisma bronze tan racist might find his way back to Pennsylvania Avenue for anything but prison release work detail picking up litter after Kamala Harris' inauguration is frightening in the extreme. 

A quick historical note: There was a time when the zombies that appeared in our nightmares were shambling moaners with little on their to-do list than shuffling about, clawing at the occasional door, and eating the brains of those too dumb to outrun them. Then Danny Boyle, who had already exposed us to the "fun" of drug addiction in Trainspotting and the joy of taking a relaxing hike in the desert southwest in 127 Hours, decided to make his zombies fast. And aggressive. This undead crew gave up shuffling for sprinting. 

Thanks Danny. 

Just like the velociraptors that figured out how to open doors, the MAGAts have organized themselves into a demented, frothing, crime against nature. Like those zombies, we keep hacking them up (metaphorically speaking) and they keep coming back to "life." What do they want? Only our brains. Because they're envious of what they don't have. They may be dumb, but they're fast. 

Can you run? Run to the ballot box. Stop this horror in it's tracks.