Are We There Yet?

This image, from the main page on Twitter, is a good example of why I did my best to avoid news media today.  Though it ostensibly wants to reassure you, it reinforces the belief that in normal times, you could expect to know the results of this election by midnight tonight (which is, by coincidence, when I'm writing this post).  But because of numerous factors, "results might be delayed."  "Delay" would be correct if they weren't available before the respective states' deadlines for certification, and in the case of the presidential competition, before the Electoral College meets to urinate solemnly on the Will of the People.  But those deadlines are still weeks away, so delay is not yet an issue, however much some people want it to be.

This morning, two NPR anchorthings in rapid succession interviewed election officials, beginning with "Now, we know that we're not going to have final results right away...." and segueing immediately into "But really, come on, now, when are we going to know the final results?"  The officials answered like adults, to their credit, explaining to six-year-olds why we are not there yet, and wouldn't be for a few days at least.  It could be argued that the anchors were just playing the parts of the dumb Average Voter, but I don't believe so.  My suspicions were borne out by further "news" reports throughout the day, in the same pattern.

I glanced at Youtube and Twitter at intervals, not for speculation about the outcomes, but to make sure there hadn't been any violence at polling places around the country.  I don't have ready access to network or cable news anyway, but local news turns up on those sites before the big names get to it, if they do at all.  So far, as of 8 p.m. (the last time I looked), I haven't seen any reports, and that's a relief.  But it isn't over yet.

My small midwestern town has been quieter than usual for a weekday, and I wonder if that has something to do with people's nervousness about the election.  The polling places are on the outskirts of town, and I couldn't find the nearest one.  But I haven't heard honking horns, and I only saw one MAGA pickup, flying large Trump and US flags, downtown at lunchtime.  At about 8 p.m., on my usual after-dinner walk, I heard fireworks; they seemed to be coming from the high school.  Traffic was lighter, fewer people were out, the parking lot at Kroger had fewer cars than usual at that time of day. 

Several people on Twitter noticed, as I did, that many were unable to resist the temptation to try to read the entrails of the exit polls and speculate about the outcome.  That let me know it was time to log out and return to reading Albert O. Hirschman's The Rhetoric of Reaction: Perversity, Futility (Harvard, 1991), which I bought over the weekend after Corey Robin praised it.  It's good, still timely, and points to a possible way out of our predicament.  I just finished it, sat down to write this, and so good night.