It’s Saturday night, too early to see if Edwards takes a second term and, as of this hour, no new buildings are collapsing downtown, so I’ll take advantage of the lull to post a mostly pointless piece.
Among the many media tropes that have long passed their sell-by date, the stinkiest for me is the Almighty Moderate Voter.
The Mystical Middle is the perpetual darling of pundits, more beloved even than the Loyal Trump Voter in Some Diner. This ever-shrinking slice of the electorate gets dissected and inspected all day long on the chat shows, as if their whim of the moment will be more consequential than the quality of our candidates or the determination of our voters.
The worst part of this moderataphilia is the growing certainty, among the least certain people in the country, that they are the essential voters whose voices Must Be Heard, even though their rallying cry is, “I dunno.”
I’ve gotten so weary of these supposed kingmakers that I’ve decided to give them a name commensurate with their perceived importance:
The Egocentrists.
And, with that, back to the returns.