I’m voting for Hillary Clinton. That stings, no matter how many times I say it. I find myself in the odd predicament of an overly wealthy one per center, when s/he pays the few taxes they can’t avoid. I’m going to assist someone, but I won’t be supporting them. I’m going to help Clinton in her effort to become president of the United States of America in 2017, but I do not support her. I don’t like her. I don’t trust her. I don’t agree with many of her core beliefs. I don’t like her positions on many issues. I don’t like her evasive, guarded answers to hard questions. If not for just one thing, I would not cast my vote in her favor:
I cannot abide Donald Trump. As bad as Hillary is, Donald is worse. We all agree that Trump is an unacceptable candidate. We need not expound upon this point, and no further justification is needed on why, under any circumstance, can Trump be allowed to win the Presidency.
There are other (non)options. I could vote for the third party candidate. That could end up with my vote giving Donald just enough space to still beat Hillary and Jill. Same thing if I abstain or write in my fervent protest. I’m not willing to take that risk.
Every time a Trade Agreement is signed into law, or tax breaks are given to the rich, TBTF banks are subsidized, I’m going to hate myself. I’ll have helped it happen. I’ll be a culpable party. “At least it’s not Trump” will be empty consolation when Madame President grants concessions to conservatives in order to advance legislation squarely aimed at the center. When the potent points that would most assist immigrants are removed from immigration legislation, I will have to look myself in the mirror knowing that I helped it happen. When economic assistance for families at the extreme poverty level are set aside in favor of money that goes to further eradicate the middle class, I will swallow the bitter pill that my vote encouraged these events.
Each homeless individual that suffers for lack of universal health care will be a macabre ear on my necklace. All this and more, I will have to atone for as I hold Mrs. Clinton’s foot in the stirrup as she takes the saddle of the Office of the President. I’ve got a sour stomach, as though the Koch brothers were forced to donate to Trump’s campaign fund. I’ve got a bitter taste, as though Trump were hand delivering citizenship to an illegal immigrant from Mexico.
I betray my core beliefs to save the planet and every living thing on it from Donald Trump. Yes, I’ll help you, Mrs. Clinton, but do not mistake my assistance for my support.
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