America in Vegas, 2009
March 3, 2020

Tuesday

Another chapter in this endless season of passive-aggressive battles in hotel lobbies and gyms, their flatscreens cycling between Fox News and CNN. After a breathtaking consolidation of the moderate candidates followed by swooning media coverage, a disoriented centrist with beautiful dentures dominated the Super Tuesday map. We will live through the election of 2016 again, this time as farce.

People talk in conspiratorial tones. They say the sudden winnowing of candidates was the result of dark money. They say the networks and boardrooms are happy to put up with another four years of a vicious idiot for president in exchange for tax breaks and boffo ratings. But maybe enough Democrats genuinely believe nominating a doddering man who wants to “return to normal” is the best way to win against a death cult that torched the rule book years ago. I don’t know which scenario is more chilling.

But I can’t read any more political opinions. I don’t even want to read my own opinions.

Each night in 2020 I'm writing a short post for a series called Notes From the End of a World because I want to etch these days into my memory before I forget them. Before the world changes completely.
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