I spend my days in mortal combat, bailing out the flood of election nastiness with a thimble. I stumble upon distortions in the form of skewed graphics with pithy memes. I fight back with Google and facts. But the memes do their damage before I can find them in my newsfeed. The ugly distortions go viral one at a time and are branded onto the brains of the lemmings, which in turn, pass them on to the other lemmings.

I fight back one meme at a time. But does it matter?

They will vote for Obama no matter what. It’s no longer the economy, Stupid. The economy is in extremis and they don’t care.

They will vote for Obama no matter what because they fear being identified as Republicans or Conservatives. These meaningless labels bother them a great deal more than Obama’s policy failures.

They will vote for him no matter what because they find him likeable: he is someone like them.

They like that photo of him smoking a j with a ‘fro. Who knows? They might have passed a bong to Barry at a party back in the 70’s—put their actual mouths where Barry’s mouth once eagerly sucked smoke.

 

 

They will vote for Obama no matter what, seeing his myriad policy failures through rose-colored glasses and they will lie, lie, lie about the facts in evidence. The mainstream media aids and abets them in this process, because after all, they are lemmings, too. It’s like a family.

And I’m not one of them. By choice.

I make myself loathsome in their lemming eyes by fighting back. Some of them unfriend me because I’m NOT THEIR KIND, while a few fellow warriors send me friend requests. I sigh at the loss of friends over politics and accept the requests.

Every day, I am in the trenches, or rather in an election boat that is filling up with water, and all I have is a thimble to save myself and the world.

The responsibility feels quite heavy.

 

 

 

 

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