by guest blogger, Alexander Hamilton’s Ghost
Jesus fucking Christ, America. Are you kidding me with this shit?
I was just a man. I wasn’t a prophet or a fortune teller. But even so, I could not have described Donald J. Trump more accurately than I did in Federalist 68. Would it have been easier for you to swallow if I had Tweeted it? Apparently the modern political attention span is limited to 140 characters. Maybe I should have written, “dudz ur fukt-no cheeto, faithless FTW!” Is that clear enough for you, Electors?
For 240 years – and without the benefit of the internet and other such forms of instantaneous mass communication – Americans managed to keep the republic secure against threats both foreign and domestic. And you just shat upon it in a manner most spectacular. I can’t even describe in mere words how hard I rolled in my grave when the only faithless electors were faithless against Madame Clinton
the most qualified individual to ever seek a woman in an eminent degree endowed with the requisite qualifications of the office of president! I was not talking about her, you dolts! I don’t know what this email thing is, or what a private server could be, but it doesn’t matter. Obviously most of you don’t, either.
My French counterpart, Joseph de Maistre, said, “Toute nation a le gouvernement qu’elle merite.” Every nation gets the government it deserves. America has become the nation of trucker hats and “reality” TV, of racism and
failing public schools, false piety, of ridiculously high military spending and obscenely high maternal and fetal mortality rates, of crushing debt and dismal wages. Slow fucking clap, you warped motley cowards, you rotting pestilent putrid cankers. You sure did manage to get the government you deserve this time.
How many Federalist Papers did I have to write? Apparently I missed one. Maybe I should have called it Federalist 86, Make Sure To Keep Your Heads Out of Your Asses.
There are not enough drinks in this whole book to get me drunk enough to forget this nightmare.
Created by men wary of democratic impulses, the Electoral College is a vestigial organ of the body politic. When all is going well, you don’t notice it. But, like an appendix or gall bladder, it can become infected and, if not removed in time, cause pain or even burst and poison the body. In the past, the Electoral College has defied the popular vote to give us the greatest Presidents: Benjamin Harrison, Rutherford B. Hayes, and George W. Bush.
If left to their own devices in 2016, the American People — those dummies — would have chosen Hillary Clinton with her “book knowledge,” her “competent track record of public service,” and her “not causing diplomatic disasters with her Twitter account.”
Unlike the appendix or gall bladder, however, we know what the original function was supposed to be. Alexander Hamilton told us in the Federalist #68.
It was a guarantee, wrote the more sober Publius, that the President would be qualified. If the People were allowed to choose directly, they may choose someone unqualified with “talents for low intrigue, and the little arts of popularity.” Without the Electoral College, our elections might be influenced by “the desire in foreign powers to gain an improper ascendant in our councils.”
Without an Electoral College, we might have foreign powers messing with our elections and we’d wind up with someone unqualified with skill in the little arts of popularity. Glad we dodged that bullet. Time to celebrate with a Faithless Elector or two and maybe a Hamilton chaser.
If you drink to the point of memory loss, more things will be unprecedented to you. “I was dancing with a lampshade on my head last night? That’s unprecedented!” “What do you mean that I did the same thing on New Year’s Eve? No way!” (While a Trump Presidency may drive Democrats and Republicans alike to drink, we do not recommend drinking until you are black-out drunk.)
In Trump’s case, it was “unpresidented” that the Chinese should capture an unmanned submarine drone. (Or, as The Guardian explained: “President-elect makes spelling error in belligerent early morning tweet”) It’s unlikely that Mr. Trump was suffering from alcohol-induced memory loss during the George W. Bush administration when a United States aircraft was captured by the Chinese after colliding with a jet over disputed Chinese airspace. Twenty-four American crew members were held by China for ten days, and the U.S. aircraft was shipped back in boxes. His historical ignorance is self-inflicted and likely a point of pride among his followers who regard book-knowledge with suspicion. They do not care that Mr. Trump is frequently wrong so long as he is never in doubt.
The unpresidented breadth of Mr. Trump’s historical ignorance is likely to be the source of repeated international incidents. When one of these crops up, we suggest mixing yourself a Twitter Beef to take the edge off. Of course, too many of these and you’ll be needing a big batch of Societal Collapse.