The Pre-Mortem

A friend of mine called me yesterday, asking for my opinion on what Tuesday will bring. I have no idea. But let me examine this from my glass half empty perspective, which is my perpetual vantage point.

On the day before doomsday, also known as the ritual of mid-term bloodletting, what does the end of sanity mean for us? First, that the boundaries of bad judgment have no apparent limits. We thought that Donald Trump was the poster boy of WTF and that, if we littered the playing field with poor imitations of the Teflon man, too much would finally be enough. Ohio, Pennsylvania, Georgia, Arizona give us stark reason to question why we bothered. The bottom is infinite.

Second, that the party in power is never right, or at least not right enough. No matter if they leap tall buildings in a single bound, there is always Kryptonite ready to reduce the man, or woman, of Steel to a bowl of quivering jello. And in 2022 there is Kryptonite omnipresent as the entire world seems off its axis.

Next, it matters not that the other party has no constructive alternatives or that its party platform consists of "I told you so." Or that we all know that they would perform no better with the keys to the kingdom in their hands. Because they never have, and with good (make that bad) reason.

Finally, understand that the world will actually not end if the Republicans take over the House (they will) and even the Senate (they might). In the worst of all worlds, Mr. Biden's next two years will be filled with fending off investigations of everything from his wayward son to his less than clean retreat from Afghanistan. Mr. Trump will do his Teflony thing and still be standing come 2024. Legislative achievements will be scarcer than World Series victories by the Seattle Mariners. And if any Supreme Court seats free up and the Senate is in elephant hands, well we know that dance.

I can recall in 2000, after the hanging chad election of George W, that I was certain we were staring directly into the abyss that would swallow us up in a single bite. And after Hillary somehow forfeited her rightful place to, I still can’t believe it, the person voted least likely to know how to run a country (or care to learn), I absolutely knew with that democracy had breathed its last breath

But here we are, still standing, even as we await the guillotine once more, and I am not of the opinion (read that as “hope”) that the sky will not be there come November 9, 2022. And should 2024 mark the end of democracy, just remember there is always 2026. And the mid-term dissection of the Republicans. 

So, to my friend, step back from the ledge. For, even in a glass half empty world, what goes around, comes around.