A stink vote is too good for them.

Last November, I wrote about the Stink Vote — how I wish we could tell the candidates,

Okay, you get my ballot, but you need to know that you are not fooling me for one second.  You need to know that I will vote for you because your stench isn’t quite as stenchy as the guy from the Stench Party.

But just because I voted for you, that doesn’t mean I think you smell all right.  You don’t get my trust, you don’t get my support, you don’t get my approval.  All you get is my stinking stink vote.

This year, for the primary?  Well, I wrote today’s Register post “Eight Things to Cheer You Up On This Terrible, Terrible Day” yesterday, and I started with the words, “I voted today,” assuming I would do just that today.  I drove up to the polling place this morning.  I slowed down.

But I did  not stop the car.

Couldn’t get myself to do it.  No matter how I figured it, there was no possible way to cast a vote in a way that would not make me feel like I’d made life worse for everyone.   If I could have submitted an angry essay in lieu of a vote, I would have done it.  But vote for any of those guys, even to keep the other ones out?  Even I, the missionary of mediocrity, couldn’t do it.  Instead, I went home and made some meatloaf.  I think that was more productive than anything else anyone else in NH will do today.



  1. It is what it is. By the time they typically get to my state…the nominees are decided. Anywho…I have a sinking feeling I will be writing in for the President this year. I made an endorsement I do not believe will end up on the ballot. That’s okay, I’ll still make my choice known by that time.

  2. My first Presidential ballot was a write-in. Two other times I’ve voted for a minor-party candidate.

    I could so do it again. It feels a bit self-indulgent…but my state’s a Republican lock anyhow, so what will it matter? And in retrospect, there’s little to be proud of on those three occasions when I swallowed hard and voted for the guy on the Republican line.

  3. I totally voted because our town not only has voting, but it hold raffles and book sales and bake sales (saleS–that’s right, two competing civic orgs!!) and has a lunch counter set up and all sorts of angry clubs you can join. And my kids get all sorts of free swag–stickers and mardi gras beads and almost a balloon, but there was only one, and what mother in their right mind is going to say yes to ONE balloon when there are THREE little kids age four and under, I’d like to know. So, for us, it is an outing worthy of getting everyone in the van.

  4. I don’t blame you one bit. I typically write somebody in when I feel that way. And if Mittens is the Republican nominee, I’ll do just that. Or maybe I’ll stay home and make meatloaf.

  5. Maybe if there had been lots and lots (lots) of time, Santorum could have hired you and The Jerk as his life coaches. Big scissors for the sweater vest, and The Jerk helping him to get in touch with his inner primitive screwhead. Heh
    Take heart. You are NOT the missionary of mediocrity, (which you know already) You are the queen of “Keepin’ it real”, God Bless that and you too.

  6. I’m thankful to be relieved of any responsibility by being an Alaskan! (both our time zone and our electoral college status render us peripheral noise).

    You did something that’s tough, particularly for people who like to be heard. But it makes sense to me!

    • Many exclamations come with coffee this strong, I guess… But I thank you for chronicling the front lines. Catholic political therapy, as someone called your candor, is indeed a worthy thing these days. Happy Meatloaf (!)

  7. Probably getting in touch with your inner Archie Bunker, giving up on the Meat Heads to eat meatloaf. Hope you put some bacon in it. And extra onions. Not a one of those idiots deserve your/my stinking vote!

    Being a lifelong Virginian, I’ve been chuckling over certain people’s complaints about not getting on our ballot. Same rules for 40 years, but hey, why not cry foul.

  8. and thanks Simcha, for not having one of those glossy “Mommyblogs” ( which I would never read) I enjoy your candid blog more than my morning coffee. Serious!

  9. Darn, just realized that I compared you to something “consumable”. No. I see you as a sister in the “God trenches, working it all out with honesty”…whew, that’s better.

    (I meditate when I’m sorting laundry and realized my mistake, as much as I love that coffee)

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