As the days dwindle down to a precious few . . .

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My brain is drained. 

                                           

My French is fried. 

                                                                       

Thank God this week coming is the last of the last!

                                                                            

     I am SO sick of politics.  I really don’t care anymore about who did what to whom under what circumstances however many years ago.  I resent the 24/7 bombardment of my senses . . . radio, TV, lapel pins, newspapers, bumper stickers, Internet, emails, road signs, telephone calls, even dog bandannas!  AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaakkkKKKKKKK!!

     Enough already!  My brain is drained.  My French is fried.  And into the home stretch, the lies get bigger and the assaults more ruthless. 

     Worst of all, there doesn’t appear to be any let-up until Wednesday morning.  Oh, yeah, we have another three whole days ahead of yelling and screaming and senseless accusations, charges and counter-charges. 

     Why does everything in America have to reduce itself in the Eleventh Hour to a ridiculous free-for-all mixed-martial-arts contest with everyone beating each other to a pulp? 

     What does it accomplish? 

     Who among those of us dumb and dumbers have not yet made up our minds about who to vote for, that some last minute fringe lunatic tidal wave of pronouncements is about to sway? 

     Tell me.  I’m really wondering about this.  How many votes do you think will jump on some bandwagon at the last minute because of some astronomically important statement being made that we’ve never heard before?  How many?  Tell me.

     Here’s what we need, people!  We need a three-day moritorium where no candidate says anything to anybody and no media reports of any candidate or issue are allowed.  We need a three-day retreat of peace and quiet to collect ourselves and our thoughts and allow ourselves to heal and become sane again . . . BEFORE we vote!

     Given the opportunity to stimulate our neurological systems with increased oxygen flow and relax our muscles with increased blood flow by taking lots of deep breaths and long stretches, and by temporarily withdrawing from the franticness and fanaticism of the outside world, WE WILL CAST A BETTER BALLOT!

     Oh, yes, and wouldn’t this fit right in with the lunatic taxation spread-the-wealth fringe element in society that’s focused on all things green and peace-symboled and artsy-craftsy and tree-hugging?  Even those folks would welcome a three-day peace period!  Besides, it might give them cause to reassess the candidates they’ve sold out their faith to.

     So, let’s see . . . how do we do something like this?  We get our elected representatives to introduce legislation.  Right.  I knew something this valuable to us, as human beings, wouldn’t be so simple.  It requires a campaign.  Something like a 24/7 bombardment of radio, TV, lapel pins, newspapers, bumper stickers, Internet, emails, road signs, telephone calls, even dog bandannas!     Halalpiar    

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