Identity Impact on the Intersectional Interstate

Death Race Tactics in California Governor Recall

FACT-CHECKED(by me): NO POLITICS OATH UPHELD. This post is about campaign tactics, not political policy. My interest in this race supersedes the outcome, which I believe is still a toss-up. My interest revolves around the collision of self-identities and personal politics, and which tribe you can or cannot belong to. Keep reading.

Fear of personal destruction has replaced persuasion of thought as the new currency in the marketplace of ideas. And being found guilty of association is equal to having committed the crime itself.

Take for instance the recall in Cali. Besides being just plainly delicious, the tactics utilized by each side deserve further study. I write about Intersectionality here. One candidate in particular has the pedal to the metal and, scanning the horizon, a massive pile-up on the ole Intersectional Highway is about to happen. Kick the tires and light the fires, this will be a super Sigalert. 

Conversely, on the status quo side, there is a smell of desperation. Especially in their emails. I received one yesterday that contained 174 words, including these 50, 10% of those being just one word

A far-right recall attempt paid for by Trump’s donors, run by Trump’s campaign manager, going on Trump’s favorite television station for an event with Trump’s favorite host.

We are taking on Trump’s entire operation in this recall attempt, and Gavin Newsom needs your help to make sure they don’t win.

Um, didn’t we just celebrate the 100 days of something? I mean a real genuine forced celebration. I couldn’t tell if people were smiling because of all the masks still. I mean follow the science, right? But the forced celebration made me well aware of all the good things being done for me. 

I must admit, I am flattered. I write a lot about my weird obsessions and rabbit-holes, and crazy things that pop into my head. It gives me material. But also, it helps prove The Constanza Rule

And now I see it happening in real life. Do not tell me about yourself and what you believe in. That would make it too hard to squirm and squish in the future, when the wind blows a different direction. 

Do tell me about who you are not. And since we just lived through four years of The Bad Orange, I am The Opposite of that. And that is all I am. That is all you need to know. Stop asking pesky questions. 

Does this disturb anyone else besides me? Not one word about the pandemic and resulting disastrous lockdowns. Zero about the hundreds of small mom and pops that are decimated. Millions of lives disrupted and displaced, and a record exodus of tax-payers from the state. Crickets.  

Nothing about a volatile mixture of 50,000-plus financially ruined, substance addicted, mentally ill, criminally vagrant, or prison-purged-homicidal-maniacs now homeless and living and pooping and dying on our streets. (Note: I advocate that veterans, children and single moms be prioritized above all other homeless for immediate services.)

Silence is violence from him on crime. Mothers openly sob when radical DAs reduce and release the vicious murderers of their loved ones. Convicted gangsters clink cups of prison hootch to celebrate their impending release, shown to us via smuggled cell phone video. 

Quiet as a church mouse in a sanctuary state, his lack of words keep open the cartel corridors of human suffering along the southern border and beyond into the formerly golden dream-state. His tacit approval of this modern-day sexual slavery is morally reprehensible. But those topics are not on the talking point radar. 

What are the talking points? The Bad Orange. And only The Bad Orange. He used Trump 5-1 over his own name, Newsom. He barely mentions the person running against him, Jenner. The massive vacuum that was predicted and is now rumbling across all of society’s platforms keeps sucking souls out. Like a massive bad orange black hole sun. 

Never mind the fact that the status quo candidate spent years of words condemning the bad orange and his stance on Rainbow Alphabet Mafia rights, specifically Trans rights. But now? Uh-oh! 

The disruptive Trans candidate is in the wrong tribe. And believes the wrong things. Code Blue and 911 too! How are we going to fix this? Ah, I know. 

Blame The Bad Orange. It worked for so long. And the built-in smug arrogance and putrefying patronization that we subjects do not, and cannot, figure out our own truths. How pathetic.

We deserve what we vote for.