Nice to know they're still fucking with me
The Republican party, that is!
Loyal readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall that I was not permitted to vote for Obama in the last Presidential election. If you don't recall the details, google something called voter suppression and anywhere you see the word "voter" in the explanation insert the name "Marilyn Jaye Lewis" and it will all be made perfectly clear to you.
After they refused to allow me to vote for Obama, making me fill out a useless pile of papers instead, they eventually mailed me a card that said, "Congratulations, you are now a registered voter in the State of Ohio." It's funny how eerily similar it looked to the first card they'd sent me that said, "Congratulations, you are now a registered voter in the State of Ohio", back when they had, in fact, allowed me to vote in the non-Presidential, non-Obama election.
Anyway, as the General Election date nears once more in the lofty state of Ohio (where voter caging has been elevated to an art form and where Republicans and Democrats rabidly despise each other -- in fact, I've got frothy foam all over my mouth right this minute to prove how rabid it can get, ha ha), what to my wondering eyes should appear in my mailbox? An undated form letter from the Voter Registration people stating that there is something wrong with the Driver's License information I submitted to them 2 (and also 4) years ago, and that if I don't straighten out the situation within 10 days (10 days from, like, when????), I will not be allowed to vote in the upcoming election.
What a load of ca-ca. Not only that, but they enclose a postage-paid return envelope that is -- YES!!-- pink, to make it all the more easily snatched up and sent to the "fuck with this voter on election day" pile. (Honestly, gang, how many times have you received a postage-paid envelope from any government office that was pink?)
Well, I filled out the stupidly useless form that was enclosed and I mailed it back in the handy pink return envelope just in case not filling it out and returning it is also a one-way ticket to Dachau or some place equally horrifying and awful, and I will not even bother to show up at my polling place on election day. I already know what will happen if I do. The smiling little white-haired lady with the bifocals will look up my name in the big book of registered voters' signatures, she'll find my name, stop smiling and quietly sigh, uh-oh, and then look up at me with a look of dread and fear on her face b/c she'll suddenly remember my ragingly bad temper the last time that happened to me, and she'll say very softly, "There seems to be some sort of problem, you need to go stand in that line over there."
And "That Line Over There" is the land of votes going straight into the garbage can.
Lift up your glass and join me once again, gang, in that never-ending refrain: "Shit like this never used to happen to me when I lived In New York." Christ, I get so sick of it.
Loyal readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall that I was not permitted to vote for Obama in the last Presidential election. If you don't recall the details, google something called voter suppression and anywhere you see the word "voter" in the explanation insert the name "Marilyn Jaye Lewis" and it will all be made perfectly clear to you.
After they refused to allow me to vote for Obama, making me fill out a useless pile of papers instead, they eventually mailed me a card that said, "Congratulations, you are now a registered voter in the State of Ohio." It's funny how eerily similar it looked to the first card they'd sent me that said, "Congratulations, you are now a registered voter in the State of Ohio", back when they had, in fact, allowed me to vote in the non-Presidential, non-Obama election.
Anyway, as the General Election date nears once more in the lofty state of Ohio (where voter caging has been elevated to an art form and where Republicans and Democrats rabidly despise each other -- in fact, I've got frothy foam all over my mouth right this minute to prove how rabid it can get, ha ha), what to my wondering eyes should appear in my mailbox? An undated form letter from the Voter Registration people stating that there is something wrong with the Driver's License information I submitted to them 2 (and also 4) years ago, and that if I don't straighten out the situation within 10 days (10 days from, like, when????), I will not be allowed to vote in the upcoming election.
What a load of ca-ca. Not only that, but they enclose a postage-paid return envelope that is -- YES!!-- pink, to make it all the more easily snatched up and sent to the "fuck with this voter on election day" pile. (Honestly, gang, how many times have you received a postage-paid envelope from any government office that was pink?)
Well, I filled out the stupidly useless form that was enclosed and I mailed it back in the handy pink return envelope just in case not filling it out and returning it is also a one-way ticket to Dachau or some place equally horrifying and awful, and I will not even bother to show up at my polling place on election day. I already know what will happen if I do. The smiling little white-haired lady with the bifocals will look up my name in the big book of registered voters' signatures, she'll find my name, stop smiling and quietly sigh, uh-oh, and then look up at me with a look of dread and fear on her face b/c she'll suddenly remember my ragingly bad temper the last time that happened to me, and she'll say very softly, "There seems to be some sort of problem, you need to go stand in that line over there."
And "That Line Over There" is the land of votes going straight into the garbage can.
Lift up your glass and join me once again, gang, in that never-ending refrain: "Shit like this never used to happen to me when I lived In New York." Christ, I get so sick of it.
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