Why I Voted for Harambe

An open letter to the American people

All the dignity that the Clinton v. Trump trainwreck
is worthy of responding to with. (courtesy: Mitch Carter on Instagram).

Fellow Americans,

I take voting—informed voting—seriously. I take good government seriously. I take our glorious republic seriously. And that is why, paradoxic as it may sound, I cast a ballot this morning with the name of a dead gorilla written in as my choice to be our next President. I do so as a pointed reflection on how 31 million of our countrymen conspired throughout the past spring to make a joke of this ballot.

To vote for someone is to believe, even if you view them as only the least undesirable option, that a candidate is at some basic level fit for the given office. I do honestly believe that Hillary Clinton is crooked, underachieved, too often wrong on policy, did recklessly endanger state secrets in a fit of paranoia—then shamelessly lied to the American public about it, and is generally unworthy of the Presidency which she truly seems to feel owed. But this does not in any way mitigate in my mind the blatant unfitness of Donald J. Trump, a crass, erratic, inveterate liar and know-nothing charlatan, who not so long ago repeatedly donated to the Clinton political machine he now makes a show of disparaging, and defended Bill Clinton in the victim in his own sex scandals, before more recently, and ominously, replacing Slick Willie as his political muse with the murderous imperial Russian gangster-President Vladimir Putin.

One dangerous, shameless liar does not absolve another. Unfitness does not excuse unworthiness. No matter what one or the other have spent the past year arguing to the contrary, it remains that any individual whose public life is so defined by such pervasive defects in character is unfit to stand as the leader of a free people. I consult today especially the memory of my beloved grandfather, whose journey of 5,000 miles across land and sea to escape the most depraved tyrannies of the twentieth century was not made to revel to in the criminal mediocrity of miscreants and appeasers. I think this morning as well of the founding generation, men who roused a nation into existence out of colonial subjugation, firm in the belief that it was within their power to remake the world, rather than settle for what was and was found wanting, and pledged their lives, fortunes, and sacred honor to that end. Those who have found themselves so moved as to believe there is a genuine choice to be made today are within their rights to do so. But with mine and our heritage in mind, I choose today to not participate in this, so that none shall ever be able to say I was among those who accepted responsibility for this damned nonsense. One or the other will win anyways, that much I accept is almost certainly true. But whichever it is will be gone and replaced in due course as have been all who came before them, and with any luck ushered out by a resurgence of good taste, sober thought, and sane, decent sentiments. In the meantime, for mine own small part, either-or shall not enjoy the pleasure of my confidence.

Dissenting,

Mitchell D. Carter

American individual.

-Mitch Carter.

Flying High

(Courtesy: Mitch Carter on Instagram).

(The following is adapted from a speech that was delivered at Waubonsee Community College in the summer of 2014 on the subject of "What is your most prized possession?", reprinted here in celebration of National Sunglasses Day)

There are all sorts of things that mean all sorts of things to all sorts of people. Everyone has something important to them, and probably then some. There are many things that I myself count as highly important to me: America, aviators, and AMC’s Mad Men are just few that I can count amongst them. But only one of those that I’ve named is an object I can hold in my hands; yet the only place I ever want them is on my face: the aviator sunglasses, preferably mirrored. Though they are physically a simple, relatively thin and flimsy item, my aviators repeatedly prove their importance to me on all but a daily basis, first through their key intended function of shielding my eyes from blinding sun, and also by their just-as-vital way of adding an extra edge to my look, by being the coolest, raddest, baddest shades around.

Being the massive sphere of burning plasma that it is, the sun has a tendency to be incredibly bright during the daytime hours, and I rely on my aviators to protect my eyes from that light while I perform important tasks, like driving, or wandering about outdoors. Sure, the sun is essential to creating the conditions in which life on Earth can exist, but without any protection, not only would I have a difficult time seeing ahead of myself through the intense rays, but I would also be opening myself up to the threat of lasting damage to my eyes. Thankfully, my possession of aviator sunglasses has alleviated this trouble. With their big, dark lenses covering my face like a Spartan phalanx, the aviators bring the world down to a cooler brightness, and the solar eminences find themselves powerless to halt me.

Of course, by their very nature, virtually any pair of sunglasses could guard my eyesight the way I’ve described, but there is something that simply sets aviators apart to me as more than just protective eyewear. The aviators do much more than just shield my eyes; they take me out of the sun and bring me to a place cooler than any other. They take me to a place of speed, parties, rock n roll, and freedom; a place where you can hear Van Halen on your stereo just well enough over the sound of the wind blowing through your hair, a place where the only fight is to keep ahold of that feeling. Whoever at Ray-Ban decided back in the thirties to start selling “pilot’s glasses” to the general public may very well have been a marketing genius; as the decades unfolded since, it has been proven time and time again that there’s almost nothing cooler than flying sweet jets (even if only because it’s impossible to fly your own giant bald eagle), and that’s exactly the sort of air I want about me in everyday life. Other styles, of course, have had their iconic moments, but there’s only one that MacArthur wore to storm the Philippines, only one good enough for Mav and Ice when they’re not busy shooting MiGs out of the danger zone, and thusly, there’s only one good enough for me.

When I first went out in search of shades way back when, it wasn’t a quest to which ones could protect me from the sun—the point of them was that they all could—, but rather the find the one’s that could do the job right. I came across several candidates for a place on my face that were all shot down by one flaw or another: wraparounds were too tight to fit over my eyeglasses, wayfarers are for Kennedys, and so on. I do believe it was the hand of fate that brought me to the aviators, perfectly big and bold enough to sit over top of glasses without looking too tacky, and bringing with them just the right mix of military and arena metal attitude. At once shielding my eyes and wing-manning for my style, the aviators have smoothly soared their way into becoming one of my most important possessions.

Thank you very much, and God bless the US.

-Mitchell D. Carter.

What Somebody Needs to Ask About Trump Tonight.

Tonight is important. The tenth Republican Presidential debate will air on CNN, just five days before the Super Tuesday primaries, and just two days after Donald Trump's victory in the Nevada caucus. Having won that contest, along with victories in South Carolina and New Hampshire, Trump leads the field of remaining Republican candidates with 81 delegates to the equal 17's of both Ted Cruz and Marco Rubio. It is now presumed by many that he will inevitably be the Republican nominee for President, in spite of his being both perhaps the most unpopular Republican candidate among Republicans and being the most disliked of all candidates from both parties among the larger voting public. There is good reason for this: in addition to being temperamentally unsound and often insistently dishonest, he is historically inconsistent in his position on nearly every issue of political relevance. While it is possible that there is nothing that can be said that will shake his core support, it would be monumentally clarifying if this stage were used tonight by either Sen. Cruz or Sen. Rubio to put the following questions to Republican voters who have yet to cast a ballot:

In the months since Donald Trump announced his candidacy last June, he has amassed great support with his promise to "Make America Great Again." Essential to achieving this end, he has argued, is being tougher on illegal immigration than any administration since the Eisenhower years. Mr. Trump pledges that he will construct a great, big wall--on the dime of a foreign sovereign--and deport twelve million illegal immigrants in the space of a few years. He promises that he can and will see to it that the very best trade deals for America possible are negotiated, and that good jobs will come back from China and Mexico. He insists that only he can be trusted to do this, because he is a businessman and not a politician, and he may have you convinced that I can't be trusted because either too "weak" or too inconsistent on these issues. And it is true that Mr. Trump is not a politician, but over many years he has frequently felt behooved to share his thoughts on political issues with the world, and has had many chances to put what are apparently his deeply-held principles to action in his business. And tonight I'd like to ask, when was it that Mr. Trump displayed that he, not I, is the individual most worthy of your trust to handle issues like immigration and trade? Was it five years ago when he said the government should undertake a lengthy and costly project of awarding amnesty "case by case"?Was it four years ago when he said that Mitt Romney, who he now considers "weak", was too mean spirited when he proposed that illegal immigrants should be legally blocked from getting jobs or obtaining welfare benefits was too "mean-spirited"? Was it when he told illegal immigrant activists three years ago that they'd "convinced" him they deserve legal status? Was it when he tweeted later that same year that amnesty could be done if Congress secured the border? Was it when, more than thirty years after his organization was first caught employing illegal immigrants in substandard conditions, the Washington Post discovered his companies still employ illegals to build his buildings? Was he fighting for the American manufacturing worker when he made a few bucks by putting his name on department store jackets and ties that were made in China and Mexico--ties he tried to give us as parting gifts at a previous debate? Was he fighting for the American worker when he turned down all but 17 of 300 job applications from American workers at his Mar-a-Lago club since 2010, claiming too many were unqualified, when he pursued over 500 visas for foreign labor, importing workers from as far as Romania?

My fellow Americans, Donald Trump may have you convinced I cannot be trusted to correctly handle these issues, and for the moment I am not trying to convince you otherwise. What I am asking you right now is to consider Mr. Trump's true history in business and politics, and then ask yourself whether you can really trust him any more than you can trust me. Can you tonight truly say you trust a man like that, who changes his political leanings with the seasons and admits to making bold pronouncements just for the sake of keeping an audience, with the incredible powers of the American Presidency?