There Is No Good Reason Not to Vote, Unless You Are an Idiot

It's probably a good thing that Mr. Noodle is trapped in Elmo's World and is, therefore, unable to vote.

New York Magazine has an article entitled "12 Young People on Why They Probably Won't Vote" on their front page. I'm not going to link to it because it's fucking stupid; if you want to read it, just google it. The reasons given by these young people range from "it sucked to lose in 2016," to "I get anxiety going to the post office." Some of these people are Political Science majors, which blows my goddamn mind. There is not a single acceptable reason given by any of these people. Mostly, their answers boil down to apathy, laziness, or stupidity.

I suppose if you're so indifferent to politics that you can't tell the difference between a Democrat or a Republican, then you shouldn't vote. But that failure is on you; you are failing your democracy. A democracy can't exist without an enlightened electorate. Its your civic responsibility to educate yourself about politics, to know your politicians, to understand how they are helping or hindering you and the people around you. Apathy is not an acceptable state because apathy helps keep evil shitbags in power. I guarantee that the anti-immigrant racist next door to you is going to vote. I bet the hypocritical evangelical that wants to take away a woman's right to chose is going to vote. I know the crazy old coot who is hording guns and preparing for a race war is going to the polls next Tuesday. But you can't vote because you don't have the time or energy. You don't think the Democratic Party adequately represents you. Well, that's nice that you have the privilege of being stupid. Perhaps you're lucky enough that the policies of the Trump Administration don't affect you directly. You're probably white and a dude. Maybe you make a decent amount of money. Maybe you're young enough that healthcare isn't an issue for you. Maybe you think climate change won't greatly impact your life. Maybe your friends are all like you. Maybe you have no friends.

We're not all as lucky as you, asshole. Quit shirking your responsibility. Get your head out of your ass and realize that everything is politics and no one is free from their political obligations. Educate yourself and stop offering excuses.

And for chissakes, change your fucking major if you're a political science student and you can't understand why it's important to vote.

Elmo's World

I look around the room. All I see are walls of paper crudely drawn on with a crayon. One would think such walls would bend at the touch, but they hold fast like an iron prison. A gold fish bobs in a bowl, staring at me with bulbous eyes. It seems to be real unlike most of the things here. Everything drawn with crayon is insubstantial except for the walls. There's a door which I try to open but it doesn't budge. I can't remember how I got here. Panic rises up in my stomach like a burst of acid.

Something knocks on the door.

"Hello?" I ask. Nothing for several seconds, then another knock, this time louder. In my mind I see a red mass of fur, a yellow nose, and a gaping black maw.

"You should open it," says the fish.

"Whhaaat?" I stammer.

"It could be a way out of here. That door opens to many worlds. But be wary. He has many agents. Or it could be Mr. Noodle."

"Who?" I ask.

"A big, dumb doofus with a mustache. I think he once had a brain, but the master removed it with torture. The master has an ugly sense of humor."

"Can this Mr. Noodle help me?" I ask.

"He can't put his pants on in the morning without help," replies the fish. "When I said he doesn't have a brain, I really mean it. I'm a goddamn gold fish, and I have more cognitive powers than Mr. Noodle."

"What is this place?"

"It is space between worlds. The Red Master has made it his home. His sorcery is strong, and I know no magic capable of besting it."

"What in the hell is the Red Master?"

"Shusssh!" says the gold fish. "We do not speak his name. We do not wish to summon him if he is not present."

"So you're saying I need to open one of these doors..."

The crayon-colored walls tremble. The knocking behind the door ceases. The gold fish cries out and then is silent. A hole appears in the middle of the floor, and a fuzzy red monster pops out of it. He doesn't look very scary to me. In fact, he looks like something you would hug.

"Ha ha ha. Welcome to Elmo's world!" says the creature in a high-pitched voice. "Do you want to play with me?"

"Umm... no?" I venture.

"Wrong answer! Ha ha ha! Let me put it this way: Do you want to play with me, or would you rather spend eternity as a gold fish?"

He beckons to the fish bowl and laughs his short, choppy laugh once more.

"Yeah, I'll play," I say.

"Ha ha ha!" says Elmo. "Put this on."

He throws me a pair of slacks, a checkered vest, and a wrinkled long-sleeved shirt. I comply with no questions asked.

"Put this on too," says Elmo, pulling a bow tie out of his nether regions.

I put on the bow tie and immediately I feel that something is wrong. My wits seems to melt out of my ears. A goofy grin appears on my face. A mustache sprouts from beneath my upper lip.

The gold fish seems to be crying. I don't know how that is possible, but I don't question it. My questioning days are over.

"Now I have two Mr. Noodles!" says Elmo. "Bye bye, Mr. Noodle!"

A crayon-drawn door opens and blackness stares back at me. I turn back to the red monster and try to explain that I'm not Mr. Noodle. My hands go every which way yet my mouth doesn't open.

All I hear is that shrill, short laugh as I fall into the abyss.

Conan Brothers Q&A

TrumpsADump asks "The midterm elections are almost here. Is it hyperbole to say that this is democracy's last chance?"

Dave: You were under the impression that America is a democracy? What rock you been under, bro?

Arnold: The same rock everyone's been hiding under, Dave. Technically America is a Federal Republic with democratically elected representatives. Note that the Constitution does not forbid gerrymandering, dark-money political contributions, voter suppression, and destructive partisanship.

Dave: I guess what I'm trying to say is that all those things you just mentioned undermine our supposed values, and they have for some time. Trump may be the harbinger of doom, but once he's gone, the same problems will remain.

Arnold: But this is sort of a last chance to elect people who will offer any resistance to Trump's agenda.

Dave: You're right. I'm just trying to downplay the whole thing in case I'm massively disappointed in the result.

Arnold: There's a decent chance of that. Apathy is the true enemy. That and the fact that about thirty percent of the electorate will not be swayed by reason or facts. They've tied themselves to Trump with a steel cable, and if he jumped off a bridge, they're coming along for the ride.

Dave: So get out there and Rock the Vote, people!

Arnold: Jesus, I remember that. Young people don't give a fuck about voting. They're all about raging hormones and binge drinking and doing stupid shit. It's a luxury of the American system that most of us, especially the young, can ignore politics and not see many immediate repercussions. But that time's ending. Mark the words of a wise old bodybuilder, children.

...

GamerGate324 asks "What have you guys been playing? Assassin's Creed? Tomb Raider? What about Fallout 76?"

Dave: I haven't played an Assassin's Creed game since the second one, and I never finished it.

Arnold: Every Ubisoft game is the same. Here's a giant map full of shit to do. Lot of it is pretty boring or derivative. The main story might be interesting, but there's no way for a narrative to maintain tension when you're being distracted by a million side quests.

Dave: Yeah, the open world theory of game design, despite being popular, has a lot of pitfalls.

Arnold: Even a good game like the Witcher 3 suffers from too many sidequests and too many things to do.

Dave: Developers, less is more!

Arnold: Yeah, put that in the advertising and see how well your game sells. Metacritic would be full of one star reviews lamenting the short play time.

Dave: It's makes no fucking sense. Most people don't finish games. Yet game lengths have gotten longer and longer. No one understands that quantity does not equal quality.

Arnold: To return to the question, I haven't played anything all year. I finished the Heart of Stone DLC for the Witcher 3 a while ago, and then I played a lot of Quake Champions. That's it. I've spent thirty bucks on video games in 2018.

Dave: You're finally becoming an adult, Arnold.

Arnold: About fucking time.

...

Noobgainz69 asks "Bros, how frequently should you max out?"

Dave: Never.

Arnold: This is something that I've learned: maxing out is kind of stupid. You should constantly be trying to increase your training volume and total poundage. But testing your one rep max in a heavy lift like the squat won't make you squat more.

Dave: But Arnold, how will I know if I'm getting stronger?

Arnold: If you're gaining weight and increasing your total volume, then you're getting stronger. If you want to compete in powerlifting, save your maxing for the meet. And don't compete unless you've got a chance of winning. I see people posting their 1000 lbs totals all the time on the net. Why did you waste everyone's time?

Dave: Preach it, brother.

 

New Old Music: Hive-Minding Man

Back in Theme Park Mistress's playing days, this was one of our staples. A nice, robotic groove reminiscent of the routines that guide us and keep us on the monorail. The song probably dates back to the eldritch days of 2011, when we were all children.

All the Myriad Reasons Why We're Doomed

Yeah, that's the face of a guy who smells his own farts and likes what he smells.

I don't know if you have heard, but the planet is warming at an alarming rate. Nobody really talks much about climate change in American politics, because we're worried more about important things like the economy and to what degree attempted rape disqualifies someone from being a Supreme Court Justice. Most of us have the attention span of a drunken toddler, and our focus will fall from one crisis to the next, deftly steered by our honorable news media. I'm going to make a bold prediction and say that in twenty years, we'll all being talking about climate change a lot more. Twenty more years of record temperatures and the discord that such weather sows will demand a response. Unfortunately, by that time, we're probably going to need a scientific miracle to stop or slow planetary warming, and the GOP will be telling us that prayer, not science, will save us. Hell, they might even be right.

It's also possible that twenty years from now, humanity will be so enveloped in a digital world of their creation that nobody will give much of a shit what happens in the real world. Maybe this is a future coming in forty or fifties years, but I think it's inevitable that our species descends into a fiction of their own making. Young people especially are expected to maintain dual identities, carefully curating a Facebook/Instagram/Youtube persona that sometimes only tangentially resembles their flesh and blood. We're edging toward the Matrix, bro. Our descendants will be flying around cities with flapping trench coats and an alternative rock score in accompaniment. Or not. I don't know.

There's also the fact that we're more or less in charge of our own evolution. Instead of the natural world we evolved to live in, we're roaming around in a bizarre concrete jungle that daily assaults our senses and alienates us further from our past. What sort of creature will human civilization ultimately produce? Who knows, but I have a hard time believing we will do a better job at engineering a survivor than nature.

So yes, times aren't great, especially if you happen not to be a rich white dude. The further dissolution of our political system is a harbinger for future horrors, to be sure. Just keep in mind that everybody dies and every species goes extinct, to give some perspective. I realize that this is a really shitty argument, but shitty arguments are all that I have at the moment.