The past few days my thoughts have been occupied by a stellar phenomenon of sorts. Well, not stellar at all, but an object in space. Last night as I was sitting outside contemplating how I would go about avoiding ridiculous speculation, unconfirmed reports and all-around bad journalism related to the election and I noticed the waxing moon hanging above the horizon. Our celestial parasite had taken on a pleasant hue, a coffee stain. As I watched the moon fall the light brown gave way to a more sinister tone. A deep and vibrant red. The color of warning, as if to say there’s a man behind you and he knows what you did with his wife. The moon is after all more in tune with the ebb and flow of space and the currents of time, the fourth dimension. I however do not believe the moon is sending us a message about the future. She hasn’t before, so why start now? Rather, I believe the moon is quite ashamed about something and once we figure it out, she is afraid we will unanimously vote we are better off without this embarrassment lurking in orbit.
As I said earlier, I’ve spent several days thinking about the color of the moon, and the coffee to blood incident was only last night. A few days ago near the end of my 12-hour shift I looked towards a noise above the west runway. A heavy transport had taken off and was making a hard banking left turn south, towards Baghdad, Kuwait or perhaps freedom and a return to the real world for the passengers—Qatar, the port of entry and departure for American troops. As the transport completed its full 180 degree turn and wings leveled I saw a tiny sliver hanging below, well beyond the horizon. It was a blood moon. A red crescent merely a half a thought wide. No good things will come of this I said to myself. I was not concerned that this moon was a sign. I had fear however that some degenerate cleric would point to the skies and proclaim that this is the sign he’d been waiting for. Seventy virgins await for the brave among his flock. Strap this vest of high explosives and ball bearings to your chest and blow up a school filled with innocent children. Allah demands blood.
I have not heard of an increase in suicide attacks. My prediction may have been completely off. After all, I don’t know very much about extremist Muslim culture, nor do I care to. A red crescent may have an altogether different meaning to them. Is it now time to do the laundry? Feed the livestock three bushels of wheat blessed by the water from the Dead Sea? No doubt many red crescents had come and gone before the invention of ball bearings and these illiterate extremists would have no ball bearings if they were not imported from China.
I have succeed thus far in avoiding news about the election. Ignorance IS bliss. I have no doubt that the certified results will take up to a week and I can wait that long to find out what bastards will be accepting bribes and selling out the American public. I still wish a reset option had been built into the Constitution. If a majority of voters select this option, a new election is held in six months. Every elected seat at the Federal level is up for grabs and most importantly, incumbents and anyone that previously held the post is forbidden to be elected. That is change. Open all hatches, flood the bilge bay and pull the plugs. Scuttle this government and lay down a new hull.
Bide your time. Be careful about your moves. None of the innocent are safe under this killing moon. Welcome to the next Four Years. They’re still number one and we’re not even number two. Just ask Ed.