The Specter of Choice

In Which I Fly Off the Handle

File:Punch and Judy - Judy beats Punch.png - Wikimedia Commons

I am so so late today because—well, does anyone really want me to describe the scramble that is today so far? I don’t think so. More to the point, I don’t want to alarm you, but there is a major election just around the corner, in case you hadn’t noticed. I’ve been doing my utmost not to notice, but can’t help it, because of course I spend a lot of time online. So that’s too bad.

One of the worst parts of election season are the tons and tons of advertisements coming into the mailbox and blaring out at full volume before every scrap of content you might want to watch or read. Perhaps you have seen this one:

In case you aren’t in a place to watch it, it is of two women decked out in middle-class Americana—just on the edge of being annoyingly patriotic but not quite. They are at two voting booths contemplating the choice between Mr. Trump and Ms. Harris. Julia Roberts croons over the top of cheerfully inane music:

In the one place in America where women still have a right to choose. You can vote anyway you want. And no one will ever know.

The two women look up and make eye contact across the barrier of the voting booth and then a disembodied pen fills in the Harris/Walz bubble. The two women walk back towards the blond woman’s husband—a sort of skeevy-looking guy who says, “Did you make the right choice?” to which the blond woman replies, “Sure did, honey.”

Julia Roberts’ voice resumes:

Remember, what happens in the booth stays in the booth. Vote Harris Walz

while the two women, smiling knowing smiles, put little “I voted” stickers on their casual jean jacket and tasteful red and white striped sweater/blouse respectively.

How do I discountenance this? Let me count the ways.