My best friend Tracey and I have been talking a lot about undecided voters lately and how we just. don’t. get. them. You either care for
1) the greater human need over your own selfish want
2) the greater human right over your own idiotic hatred
or you don’t. We don’t see how someone could possibly not have a definite opinion on, say, trade policy or women’s rights or taxation. I understand that you can be an independent or a libertarian or a member of the . . . Peace and Freedom Party(?) and not have a viable candidate who really suits your Presidential candidatey needs, but after A YEAR AND A HALF OF CAMPAIGNING, make up your damned mind already!
Tracey sent me a David Sedaris article in The New Yorker today that we think says it best:
To put [undecided voters] in perspective, I think of being on an airplane. The flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. “Can I interest you in the chicken?” she asks. “Or would you prefer the platter of shit with bits of broken glass in it?”
To be undecided in this election is to pause for a moment and then ask how the chicken is cooked.