Great Leader Won't Allow a Mid-Term Loss to Democrats

I have been voting since Lyndon Johnson occupied the White House, gasoline cost less than bottled water, and politicians still had the decency to lie in complete sentences.

During all those years, I observed Republicans win elections, Democrats win elections, and voters repeatedly convince themselves that this time politicians would actually solve something.

They never did, but hope springs eternal.

What I never witnessed was a nationwide effort to convince citizens that voting should require the same level of planning as the Normandy invasion.

Back then, people simply voted.

Show up.

Stand in line.

Cast ballot.

Go home.

Argue with spouse.

Democracy complete.

Today, however, we are told that voting is so dangerous, complicated, and vulnerable that it apparently requires more security protocols than Fort Knox.

This naturally raises an important question.

If voting is wonderful, why do some politicians spend so much effort making it less convenient?

The answer may be found in one of mankind's oldest fears:

Too many customers showing up at the election.

Nothing frightens a politician more than uncertain voters.

Well, except maybe term limits.

As we move toward the next mid-terms, things are looking slightly uncomfortable for Great Leader's party.

Inflation remains stubborn.

Debt continues growing.

The public remains cranky.

Congress remains Congress.

And approval ratings continue doing what approval ratings do immediately before consultants begin updating their résumés.

Fortunately, Great Leader possesses a political superpower unmatched in American history.

The ability to blame literally anyone.

Things good?

Great Leader deserves credit.

Things bad?

Clearly someone else's fault.

The Democrats.

The Deep State.

The Fake News.

The Federal Reserve.

The weather.

Taylor Swift.

Take your pick.

An explanation is always available.

Supporters assure us Great Leader continues keeping America safe from hostile foreign powers.

Perhaps.

Personally, I place my trust in a more proven defense system.

A desk.

Not just any desk.

A giant executive desk.

You may laugh, but the Federal Civil Defense Administration once advised schoolchildren that running under a desk during a nuclear attack represented a sound survival strategy.

And if it was good enough for government experts in 1955, it ought to be good enough for me.

Accordingly, I have upgraded my nuclear defense capabilities.

My new desk weighs approximately three metric tons and could comfortably accommodate four adults, a Labrador retriever, and a reasonably sized refrigerator.

My wife received a handsome cherry-finished model.

Because if civilization ends, I still want the house looking classy.

Now let's travel ahead to January 2027.

The election has been held.

Votes have been counted.

Recounted.

Audited.

Re-audited.

Examined by lawyers.

Examined by accountants.

Examined by television personalities whose previous expertise involved predicting football scores.

Democrats gain seats.

Republicans gain ulcers.

Great Leader immediately announces that serious irregularities have been detected.

Exactly what irregularities?

That remains unclear.

But they're very serious.

Possibly the most serious irregularities in world history.

A task force is formed.

Then another.

Then a commission to investigate the task force.

Then a task force to investigate the commission.

By March, Washington employs more investigators than voters.

Speaker Johnson appears before the cameras.

With a solemn expression he announces:

"While votes have technically been counted, we have questions regarding the counting of the counted votes."

Reporters stare blankly.

Cable news panels erupt like volcanoes.

Social media users consume enough caffeine to kill a herd of buffalo.

The nation descends into chaos.

Meanwhile Great Leader remains calm.

After all, he has spent years preparing for this moment.

Chess players think five moves ahead.

Great Leader thinks five conspiracy theories ahead.

Some citizens remain hopeful that the Supreme Court will save the day.

This confidence is touching.

It reminds me of children leaving cookies for Santa Claus.

The Court may act.

The Court may not act.

The Court may decide to think about acting.

The Court may appoint a committee to study the possibility of thinking about acting.

By the time a decision arrives, everyone involved could qualify for Medicare.

As for me, I intend to vote anyway.

Perhaps I'm old-fashioned.

Perhaps I'm stubborn.

Perhaps after sixty years of voting I've simply developed the habit.

But I refuse to surrender my ballot.

Not to politicians.

Not to bureaucrats.

Not even to Great Leader himself.

Because if democracy finally collapses, I want historians to note one important fact:

I showed up.

I voted.

And unlike Congress, I managed to finish my work before lunch.

The rest, as always, will be blamed on somebody else.