Irony has a way of running up to you and smacking you in the face.
I spent the vast majority of my day agonizing over my decision for either Clinton or Obama. In addition to the concerns listed in my previous post, I deliberated on the needs of the country versus the needs of Democratic Progressivism. Which does this country need more: a competent adminstrator or a compelling leader; a policy wonk who can fix the messes left behind by Bush, or an idealist who can change people’s minds?
As I finished my day and began the drive towards the polls, I realized I was really overthinking this whole thing, and placing way too much importance on my one vote. This is a primary, not the election, and my vote is but one out of a million votes that count collectively, not
individually. My vote would not decide the fate of this country! Removing myself of that burden made it easier to conclude that since I liked both candidates, and would be happy with either as the democratic nominee and as President, it would be pointless to belabour the issue
with myself. I should instead vote for the one who I preferred, who spoke to me on a more personal level: as a liberal American who beleives this country needs change and vision as well as ideas.
What cruel irony it is, that a month’s worth of research and soul-searching should come to naught! I was unable to cast my vote for Barack Obama because I am an “Unaffiliated” voter (a reality I never knew–I have always been a democrat and have always voted democrat, and assumed that I had registered as a democrat. I cannot remember why I did not). Oh, the dejection! I very nearly cried.
Irony, that bitch.