Twelve days. I can hold my breath for 12 days, can't I? So it comes down to this. After 11 years of blogging, well over 1 million words, 4.25 million views, the question is can I wait 12 more days? Perhaps I could get my doctor to put me in a medically induced coma. Would Medicare pay for that?
If Biden is leading Trump by three or four points in three or four polls in a state and in each of those polls three or four points is "within the margin of error" is the fact that there are three or four polls any evidence that he is actually leading?
Having run out of things to speculate about, I have started making my plans for election night. From my favorite take-out Chinese restaurant, I will get General Tso's chicken and I will open a bottle of inexpensive Cabernet and I will prepare to stay up all night. The good news is that both Florida and North Carolina are early count states and we should have their results by 9:30 or 10 PM. It Biden takes both of them, as now seems genuinely probable, perhaps I will get some sleep.
I have a vague memory of two things that I believe Aristotle said somewhere. The first is that shit does not have a form. The second is that the prime mover has knowledge only of general principles but like the overlord of an estate, does not trouble himself with the details that his estate manager deals with. If these memories are correct, then perhaps I ought to stop trying to say something philosophical about what can only be described as a rancid pile of dung.