Archive | January, 2012

Voter Registration: the Dead and one feasible solution

23 Jan

by L. Stewart Marsden

Recently the media has revealed that voter fraud occurred during the Republican Primaries in South Carolina due to many votes being casked, I mean, cast, by citizens who are deceased. Dead. Kaput.

I realize this is probably grist for the new NBC thriller, Grimm, but I got to thinking about it, and I think there is definitely a place to reconsider legalizing the dead vote.

This under-represented group has a major impact on the economy, and deserves a voice. Think of all the businesses and industries that are dependent on the dead: cemeteries and mortuaries are the tip of the ice berg. Actuaries and insurance companies could not live without the dead. New York real estate — especially on Manhattan — moves with the dead. Sculptors who would be idle if not for memorials; bridges, parks and highways and other federal, state and local buildings and bi-ways would be numbered instead of named.

In a way, the dead have been voting for decades. The revelation of voter fraud in South Carolina of recent is not a new phenomenon. Back in the mid 70′s the Chicago Boy Scouts created Boy Scout memberships — paid for by the US Government — from the name of nonexistent boys, and the dead. This Chicago-Gate harmed Scouting throughout the nation for years. No doubt there are many other examples that have long been buried.

The very first plus of giving the dead the vote is the obvious: it won’t be a contributor to voter fraud in the future. But, there are clearly other benefits:

The dead have a very real advantage over the living: they can see into the past as well as into the future. Think how that will impact the veracity and the promises of candidates who will want to appeal to this voting block! No more flip-flopping or denying anything; no more making promises that won’t or can’t be met, because the dead vote will point a bony finger at them!

The dead have the advantage of being able to accurately assess history! Did FDR allow the attack on Pearl Harbor? The dead can check it out and report it on TDN on cable (I don’t have to tell you what TDN stands for, right?).

AND, the whole debate about the intentions of our Founding Fathers will finally have its resting place! It will become a Dead Issue!

Such lack of representation — or the inability to determine how our government should be shaped — is a real crime, and I say, give the dead the vote.

Still another benefit of legalizing the dead vote not only goes back to healing past actions thought to be illegal and immoral (the Boy Scouts? Immoral?) at the time, but really paves the way for future projects to be incredibly successful without anyone having to worry about prison time. Our prisons are overflowing as it is!

There you have it. Legalize the Dead Vote. You might have to first register the dead to make sure they are old enough . . . at least 18 years since passing. But think, everyone — as long as they are not aliens — will get the chance to cask — um, cast their vote. Ouija boards ($25 each from Hasbro at stores everywhere) would be placed in each polling/voting location with a medium present to take down those revelations on an official ballot box. Far less expensive than contemporary voting machinery, and no lines! At least, that we can see. No hanging chads, either (unless Chad was hung). Absentee ballots would be redundant, and not needed.

I can see a new party emerging from this: the Grateful Dead Party — because, think how grateful our dearly departed will be to finally have the vote.

As Porky Pig said (I think he died in 1977), Th-th-th-th- that’s all, Folks!

Aside

Denver Pandemic…

9 Jan

Denver Pandemic

by L. Stewart Marsden

Okay — I bought into it at the very last as well, especially when sports announcers said, with inflection, “So faaaaaar — (wink, wink) — the NFL playoff Wild Card wins have gone to the home team, leaving the only unresolved Wild Card to be determined in Denver, where the Broncos are 8 and 8, losing their LAST THREE GAMES, and the Pittsburgh Steelers are 12 and 4

Teebow. Teebow. Teebow. You kind of get sick of it. I’ll bet the rest of the Denver team got a little more than irked at the attention. Forget the line, the defense, the special teams.

So this little germ of an infection sets in. Maybe with a Denver defensive back. “I’m in the game, too.” And it gets passed onto a linebacker who spreads it to a defensive end, who whips it over to the offensive center, who continues to pass it on to one of the tackles, and then a running back and lo and behold, a wide receiver

The virus has broken out until Teebow himself, bowed with growing self-doubt, catches it, too.

At the end of regulation it’s knotted up. Tied. Even. Deadlocked.

“If the offensive team scores a touchdown, the game is over. If the defensive team scores a touchdown, the game is over. If the offensive team scores a field goal, the defensive team will have a chance on offense . . . ” and yadda-yadda-yadda, says the Referee

Call. Coin toss. Denver wins the toss and elects to be on offense

The twenty yard line. Eighty yards to score or less for a field goal. Denver has a comeback history with gargantua field goals

Steelers are coming for Teebow. Go ahead. Throw. We dare you! Na na na nah-nah!

Demaryius Thomas splits out left and runs a simple post pattern into the Pittsburgh secondary. Teebow drops back, spots his target, and lets fly with a 15 to 20 yard rifle shot that finds Thomas in stride. One stiff-arm and Thomas is on his way to the end zone down the right sideline

End of sudden death. End of Game. End of story.

Or is it? With the ominous Patriots looming ahead in Boston — the team that dismantled Teebow and friends just weeks ago — the chatter will build.
“Teebow will always have this Wild Card playoff victory to look back upon.” RIP, Tebow and Denver. Drop the roses on the coffin.

Once again, Teebow, Teebow, Teebow. Certainly the rest of the Denver team will drift back into their funeral malaise and bow to the tide of commentator wisdom

Bless you, Denver. Did somebody sneeze?

The First Slope

8 Jan

The First Slope

by L. Stewart Marsden

New ski bibs, jackets, rental skis, boots, poles and helmets. Maybe 24 inches of base with temperatures projected to be in the high forties with rain likely.

Two new skiers: one age twelve and the other, eight.

One a little less athletic than the other. She is a socialite in the making. An I-don’t-want-to whatever needs to be done in a whiney voice. Argumentative. Sharp as a tack.

The other wiry, yet tough.  Physically aggressive in spite of her size. A doer who wants to please. Also sharp as a tack.

“First time skiing for the girls?” asks the ski rental clerk.

I nod. Then I add, “I think the younger one is going to take to this like a duck to water.”

Suited up. Standing on the edge of the bunny slope. The learning slope.

“You guys want lessons?”

“No!” responds the socialite adamantly. “You can teach us!”

I know enough to get them either seriously frustrated or injured. I keep repeating the offer as we go through the basics: stepping into your skis; leaning forward and keeping your weight forward; hands forward and ski tips back.

After several false starts and plops onto padded toucases, the final offer for lessons is finally accepted.

And then the surprise. The socialite excels. She gets it. She listens to a total stranger. She glides and slides down the bunny slope with growing confidence and, yes, a modicum of grace.

Meanwhile, younger sibling tries to listen, but it doesn’t sink into her small frame. She falls. She can’t get up. She slips. She begins to stay down. Her face is fallen. “I need a break,” she pleads to me.

A brief respite for a soda and consolation.

You can do this.

Sniff.

No, really! In just a little bit of time, you’re going to get it.

Double sniff.

Back to the slopes.

I go with her. Slowly. Big, wide snow plow. Good! Eyes bigger. Fall, then back up. Hands forward and lean forward. Increased speed. Staying up! Good! Eyes brighter!

Second run: down the slope under more control.  One fall.

Third run: NO FALLS!

Big grin! “I love this sport!”

“No, Dad — I’m going by myself.”

All in all a good day. Not quite the way I imagined it. Socialite skier had progressed to the next level slope and was streaming downhill on her own. Frustrated skier was all smiles, ear-to-ear teeth. Old man skier mindful of why skiing is best left for the young, the limber, and the mendable.

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