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Spock does a victory dance when his algorithm beats Kirk's gut feeling to win an election pool

Depressing thought: in the 23rd century, they still have the electoral college

Depressing thought: in the 23rd century, they still have the electoral college published on No Comments on Depressing thought: in the 23rd century, they still have the electoral college

Captain’s log, sup-… sup-… -lemental. OK, had a drink or two with Scotty and Bones while we watched the returns. Played a drinking game: every time you saw Wolf “359” Blitzer get excited about a result with fewer than 1% of the votes counted, you took a shot. We were hammered before the polls closed on Altair VI.

My gut told me it was going to be a huge sweep for Jonathan Archer Jr. (and forget that third party guy – it’ll be a cold day in hell before an Efrosian becomes president!) But in waltzes Spock with his, his, all his charts and graphs saying “Logic dictates a decisive defeat for Archer” and we just laughed.

So now it’s six hours later and my gut’s telling me something different, mainly that the Denebian burrito I had was a bad idea, and Scotty and Bones and I just lost three standard months’ salary in the election pool. And Spock’s just insufferable about it, saying he’d be happy to walk me through the algorithm in a simplified way that humans can understand.

But what he doesn’t (burp) – ‘scuse me – what he doesn’t get is that my gut was right. If it wasn’t for that ion storm that hit sector V-5, which totally killed Archer’s momentum, it’d be Spock pawning his communicator to Harry Mudd, and me booking two weeks in a beachside cabana on Risa. Also, Andorians and Vulcans reeeeaallly love to vote against the human, y’ever notice that?

‘kay. Little tired now. Jus’ gonna lie down for a…

(thud)

Election night sketchbook

Election night sketchbook published on No Comments on Election night sketchbook

Here are my election night doodles. I posted them to my blog as well, but thought hey – y’all might enjoy them too. They’re surprisingly non-partisan (at least by my standards), apart from a crack about Mitt Romney’s dog.

I think part of the reason was seeing a few of the faces of Romney’s most ardent workers, who looked absolutely crushed. I know that feeling way too well; it’s the feeling of working your ass off for something you truly believe in, and can’t understand why other people don’t get. It’s thinking that things are going to be better at last, and then having that yanked away from you. No fun.

I’m not going to celebrate any less for remembering that feeling, mind you. But I think even a Tea-Party-loving, Red-State-abiding, guns-from-cold-dead-fingers-prying GOP voter may get a grin out of one or two of these.

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