I’m going to write a blog I should have written eight years ago, immediately after I sinned. In I Claudius Augustus says to Claudius; Your brother Germanicus says you are loyal to three things, Rome, your friends, and the truth. That’s the kind of thing I would like people to say about me.” That’s one of the central parts of my moral philosophy, I’m never quite sure what is my equivalent of Rome but as for my friends and the truth it goes without saying. What was my sin? It was being untruthful. I should be like Faramir and not even deceive an orc with a falsehood.
I’m an analytical person so revel in all the analyses of polls just as I do of baseball. Nate Silver led the way in finding new ways to discover the truth in both. I know that he’s become something of a bro but when he sticks to his lane, he still knows what he’s talking about. FiveThirtyEight, which was then in its full glory, ABC has since hollowed it out, gave the odds of Trump winning the election at 30%. Nate Cohn at the Times, my second favorite analyst, put his odds at only 20%. I understood that even Cohn’s more optimistic (by my lights) forecast was far from 0. Things with a 20% chance of happening happen every day, if a .200 hitter gets a hit nobody is shocked. It happens once out of every five times he’s up and doesn’t walk or get hit by a pitch. I knew very well Hillary, my favorite candidate ever, winning was not a sure thing. Yet when I saw people on Facebook tearing their hair out because of doubt, or even sure Trump would win out of catastrophizing, I told a straight out lie. I guaranteed that Hillary would win. I regretted it as soon as I said it and regretted it more when she lost. I have thought about it every day since then. I betrayed the truth, and I betrayed my friends.
That’s why this year I’m emphasizing that I know nothing and neither does anyone else. I see people searching for crumbs of hope and chasing shadows of despair. They are adults and shouldn’t try and protect them from the truth, but help them deal with it. Maybe the Gods of baseball and politics have a deal, when I win with one, I lose with the other. In 2016 I had no faith in my Mets, so I adopted the Cubs, and they won the World Series, A few weeks later then gods of politics took away my joy. This year I had faith in my Mets, and they lost. The gods owe me the election. That’s all nonsense of course, but as long as I know it’s nonsense it’s harmless.
I can’t tell you that Harris is going to win and remain loyal to the truth. I can tell you to not listen to those that say it’s inevitable that Trump wins. I can tell you that where there’s life there’s home, and need of vittles as Sam’s gaffer used to say. By the way 57 years after my first reading of The Lord of the Rings, I finally found out what a gaffer is. It’s an old man. In the last chapter of LoTR Tolkien says gaffers and gammers. A gammer is an old woman. Dictionaries are wonderful things. These things are no less important just because what really is the most important election of my lifetime is going on.
I’ll spend the night reading the LoTR appendices, perhaps watch a movie, work on Gord’s Gold, and Solving Spelling Bee. I won’t forget the vittles, I’m making poutine The dice have been rolled and now we await how they fall. I’ll check in on the Times Election Needle now and then. Then I’ll go to sleep and then wake up in the morning no matter what the result.
Wise Madness 