*Game of Thrones music begins playing. The camera pans to a wall covered in pictures of JD Vance, Ken Paxton, JK Rowling, and is that a glass of milk?* This is House of Dingus. The weekly newsletter where we crown one dingus to sit on the Iron Throne. This week’s dingus is the undecided voter. So, make way for the Undecided Voter, the King of the Dingdongs and the First Dingii. Never miss a weekly installment of your favorite drama by becoming a subscriber. You can support this newsletter by becoming a paying subscriber. Or, if that is not what you want to do, you can share this newsletter, and hit the “heart” icon up top, in the app, or on the website. Doing that makes this newsletter more visible to other people. And in turn tells more people about the dingii. And now, if you didn’t skip the intro, here is the dingus. Recent polls suggest that 18 percent of Americans haven’t made up their minds between Kamala Harris and Donald Trump. That’s 18 percent of Americans who simply cannot tell the difference between a white man who has been convicted of a lot of crimes and a Black woman who has not been convicted of any crimes. That’s 18 percent of Americans who, when told to spot the difference between these two pictures, shrug and say, “They look the same to me.” These pictures are indistinguishable. I am very smart. According to the “Chuck Todd theory of American politics” (as political scientist Rachel Bitecofer calls it), the swing voter is the crucible of every election. This is why they are fawned over and given so much air time. However, when you dig into the data, this person doesn’t actually seem to exist. And statements about their ability to swing right or left seem greatly exaggerated. And yet, there is the siren call among the pundit class to appeal to this amorphous man in the middle, while the people who actually carry the elections get run over. If they do exist, these undecided voters are usually conservative-leaning men, data show. These are probably the same men who are on Bumble identifying as “apolitical” because at least they know that saying, “I am a conservative and will vote to take away your right to make basic healthcare choices” doesn’t usually turn women on. They like tacos. They want to find the Pam to their Jim. They think you are being a little hysterical and look, could you please stop shouting so loudly about your rights while you are being herded in the JD Vance breeding pens? Women, amirite? “Why do you have to make everything so political?!” they demand when you tell them your friends can’t get trans-inclusive health care. “You really have to see both sides,” they say when you tell them, “Hey, I am a human being and deserve rights.” Sure, women may be dying. But have you considered the other side? Which is that men don’t like to be nagged about all this dying. Before you get too hard on them, consider: They are moderate and reasonable men. They simply don’t get upset when women tell them they would have died without an abortion. Or that conservatives are coming for marriage equality. Why should they? It won’t affect them at all. Not in the slightest. Look at them: They are very smart. Have you considered that you are simply being shrill when you say that January 6 was bad, actually? Sure, women may be dying. But have you considered the other side? Which is that men don’t like to be nagged about all this dying. It is very important that the campaigns must appeal to this person who has never formed a coherent opinion in their life. A person for whom facts and data and the screams of children, just run through their head, in one ear and out the other. No brain, no pain. All media outlets must follow this man around, a microphone in his face, a tear in their eye, “Sir, tell us your thoughts!” They insist. “Morgan Wallen is pretty okay,” he will say. Reporters gasp, hanging onto his every word. “Sometimes, I like to watch football. Other times, I mow the yard. All things are the same to me. There is no difference. I don’t see color. I do not see the stars. I do not hear the sound of the car approaching, nor the bird in song. I cannot tell you what a cicada is, or what a spider is not. For I — I am undecided.” And now for something goodFor the first time since 2016, the Indiana Fever are in the playoffs. And I know me and my household will be wearing our #22 jerseys and watching the game. Also, CC got a triple double and is dominating the game. We love to see it. Also, it’s fall, which is peak sports season. And I am excited for my favorite sport, Survivor, to air on Sept 18. A significant number of writers and podcast/radio hosts are in this season, and I am ready to see what those nerds can do. Speaking of sports, Drew Magary is here to roast your team. And this is older news, but new to me, two New Orleans teens who proved the Pythagorean Theorum are out there mathing so hard. Sade is releasing a new song as a part of a Transgender Awareness compilation. The new Beetlejuice movie is here! Let’s fund abortions!I will see you on October 22, 2024 in Des Moines at a fundraiser for the Iowa Abortion Access Fund. I told our executive director we can sell enough tickets to need the “big room” for the night. I told her that we can count on Iowans. So, do not let me down. What I am enjoyingThis week, I worked very hard to get my ass in bed so I could snuggle in without pants on and watch House of Dragons, which is the prequel to Game of Thrones. The show should be subtitled, “Inbred blonds fight each other over a chair made of nails.” Because that’s what it’s about. And I think, for me, the appeal of the show is that it’s about leaders who never say “level-set” or post on LinkedIn about the “grind.” Although it might be better if Rhaenyra Targaryen read The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. And maybe the council run by Alicent and Otto Hightower would do a little better if they all went on a retreat and did a little team-building? Like what if they all took the Myers-Briggs and did trust falls? Not so thirsty for murder now, are you, sers? Listen, is House of Dragons a good show? I cannot tell you. Do I recommend it? No. But ultimately these questions are irrelevant to my enjoyment of it. And I am enjoying it. I am also enjoying Lacayo. Lacayo is a restaurant in my town that serves food from Latin America and the Iberian Peninsula. It’s very delicious and has an incredible bar. The menu changes up often and I have literally never eaten anything there that I have not loved. I went there on Wednesday night because they have an event called Martinis and Weenies, where they invite dogs onto their patio and offer a hot dog special and make a fabulous martini. And it was so fun to sit there and chat with people. I brought my tiny dog Jolene, who is a dachshund-maltese mix. And one woman, who was sitting at a large table of people, asked me what her name was, and when I said, “Jolene” she exclaimed, “Oh wow!” “Yes,” I added. “I named her after the song because she’s a little ho. She’ll let anyone pet her.” The woman frowned. “My boss who is sitting over there is also named Jolene.” “Not for the same reasons, I hope,” I said. “No.” The woman turned back to her table. And I was pretty proud of myself. Anyway, I love Lacayo. I love little spots in town where I can sit and enjoy the weather and support a business that makes my life a little better simply for their birria tacos. Speaking of local places I love. My favorite booze store, Benz Beverage Depot, sold me their only bottle of Early Time Whiskey Bottle in Bond, which is such a wonderful easy drinking whiskey for the price. |