This time around, a third of the voting population cast their votes using electronic voting machines. The majority of which produced no records of the votes cast, seperate from the tally constructed by the machines themselves. This sweeping change in the election procedure was deemed an overwhelming success. Why? Well, the machines are very user friendly. And they produced a total number of votes cast that pretty much matched the total numbers of voters that showed up to vote. And almost none of them broke down. Ergo, a success.

Of course, this has to be put in perspective. We live in the 'Information Age' now. Which basically means that we have had to start trusting in machines. Believing in that they will do shat we want them to do. That our cars are actually going 65 mph when the speedometer says so. That we actually owe 1,234 dollars in income tax if our tax software says we do. There is usually no practical way for us to actually check if the machine is actually running correctly. We generally do not have access to information on how the machines actually do their thing to check if these methods are flawed or not. Nor would we have time, let alone the inclination, to do it, even if someone would give us the data. Sure, we might get pulled over for going 85, when we were sure the speedometer read 65, but who is to say that the cop's radar could not be just as faulty as the speedometer? Besides, it must have been we, reading it wrong, because the machines do not make mistakes.

So to get by, in a world embedded with machines that do their magic in a way that is mostly opaque to us, we assume, and trust, and believe. And we also develop our instincts, to use to indicate when the machines might actually have gone awry after all: The blue screen of death, the 'freeze', the 'service needed'. And we have a set of universal tools to deal with these symptoms: The 'quit', the 'reset', the 'reboot'. Taking it in for service. But generally, if it doesn't complain, or show any symptoms, it must be fine.

That's why the electronic voting excercise was such an unabashed success.

And this is one of those rare occasions where my day-time job intersects with another one of my obsessions, politics.

You see, it really is not enough to note that most of the tens of thousands of voting machines did not crash, and that the systems spewed out a final tally roughly equal to the total number of votes cast. No, the real measure of success is how accurately the systems reported how the votes were cast. And it is there that we run into problems.

Surely, there is an independent way to determine this? To seperately verify the results? Nope, not really. Granted, a few states, e.g. Nevada and New Hampshire, adopted a process which produces a paper ballot, seperate of the vote cast electronically. But even there we really do not know if the electronic method worked correctly, because the paper ballots would only have been used if the electronic system had given a close results. See the problem here? Besides, most of the third of the country, that suddenly went electronic this year, did not marry a seperate system with the electronic one. They just have to believe.

I can almost hear you say 'But these must be heavily scrutinized and audited systems'. Sure. Yes. Well, sort of. They are 'certified', for sure. But only by a handful of companies. Contracted by the very makers of the machines themselves. And there is no way for academics, security experts, the public, to do their own verification of the veracity of the machines and their proces. Why? Because the system and its software are secret! A third of the votes cast in the election was cast using a system that is closed to public scrutiny. I kid you not.

And what happened to the aphorism "justice should not only be done, but should manifestly and undoubtedly be seen to be done", usually attributed to Lord Hewart? Well, to quote The President himself, The People just are "not that concerned" about it.

There is some hope, though. For example, a number of people working in the field of information security have voiced their concern. One of them actually worked as an election judge, both in the Super Tuesday primary last March, and now in the general election. He blogged his thoughts about it. Here is a snippet from the March entry:

My biggest fear is that super Tuesday will be viewed as a big success. By all accounts, everyone at my precinct felt that way. The more e-voting is viewed as successful, the more it will be adopted, and the greater the risk when someone decides to actually exploit the weaknesses of these systems.

Maybe the general population will come to its senses. However, judging from the election results, I'm not holding my breath.

another_idiot.jpg

The horror is not simply in the fact that after he made a terrible mistake, by invading a sovereign country that posed no threat to the American people and killed tens of thousands of their citizens, Americans still voted this person as their president.

The chilling fact is that the election was not even close. There is no "won the popular vote but lost to an arcane election system". There were no "few hundred hanging and pregnant chads" to sic lawyers on in Florida this time.

No, it is unequivocally, undeniably clear that the majority of the people in this country feel like this person:



Or this one:



The thing is, how is democracy supposed to solve the problem of two people trying to make joint decisions on so many things in their lives, and they agree on fewer and fewer things, by the day?

What are you supposed to do when you are one of these people, and the other one starts to break into other people's houses and kill them in cold blood, indiscriminately, on behalf of the two of you? How well are you absolved from responsibility for his actions?

Is it enough for people to say that they voted for the other guy, and that they just wash their hands of this, and of all that will follow?

My wife asked me yesterday if I thought I was depressed. And I said no. Almost as a reflex.

But you know what? Maybe I am depressed. Granted, not severely. But maybe somewhat. It would explain why I've stopped going to the gym. Stopped waking up with my wife at five, instead sleeping in with my daughter till past seven. Even though we still go to sleep at around nine pm. I'm obsessed with the fact that this rich, seemingly educated nation has (re)elected a dangerous idiot for a president. I've started eating candy and sweets again. And I've been procrastinating for days on this really easy, straight-forward, almost tiny job that I need to get done.

I've also stopped blogging. I know, that's not a first, but this time it's been different. I feel...hollow. Somehow. Like I have no effect on the tragic turn that this world is taking. I know that shouldn't upset me. I should just go back to my seemingly completely inconsequential busying with reading and writing legal papers about something that interests and amuses me, but doesn't really change anything of consequence, in the big scheme of things. Noone's life is especially better because of my work. Really. It's the old "You never hear anybody standing up in a plane or in a crowd yelling 'Oh my god! Quickly, is there a lawyer in here?!'?".

Which brings me to one of these really good, long conversations I had with my wife recently. Really, having someone with whom you can intelligently discuss anything and everything on your mind ought to be a human right. Anyways. I was lamenting the lack of any purpose that my work has, except to amuse and intrigue me, and to make money. I went on about how great it would be if I had the inclination to be a doctor. I mean, nothing could beat going to work each day and actually save someone's life. I knew my wife would agree with me, at least up to a point. But I was interested in seeing this from her perspective. Seeing more angles. Her work has been getting more and more hectic in these last few months, and working as a trauma surgeon brought a renewed emphasis, in this little chat of ours, to a couple of recurring themes in our somewhat regular existential discussions: One, this stuff actually cuts both ways. And two, being a doctor can become little more than a job, just like anything else.

On the first point: As you start working in a situation where you can possibly save lives, there are times when you can't. And those can weigh heavily on you. Watching people die, especially if your job is to prevent that, can eat away at you. My wife's Achilles heel is young people. Kids and teenagers. She feels that kids dying, parents surviving their children, etc., is wrong. Not just sad, but wrong. Like a natural law being violated in some way. That it is against that which should be. We've discussed this a number of times through the years, and this feeling of hers only seems to be getting stronger. Which is one of the prime reasons we want to move to Africa to work with underprivileged kids, after she is done with her eventual fellowship. But that's another story. I think the underlying reason for her feeling this way, is her profound belief that everybody should have an equal opportunity. When it became clear to us, oh maybe fifteen years ago, that we shared a political philosophy, the common ground was that we believed that everyone should have an equal start, not an equal finish. For example, everyone should have the opportunity to work hard and show that they are the best person for a job, regardless of anything else. It would be unacceptable that someone got that job just because he was white. Or black. Or male. Or female. The outcome shouldn't be pre-determined. No prejudice should be left unchallenged. And neither should you fight wrong with wrong. Like affirmative action. Or gender quotas. Everybody should get a fair shot. Equal opportunities. One of our favourite quotes is from Addams Family, the movie: "The human spirit is a hard thing to kill. Even with a chain saw." You should allow it to soar, because it is the best potential this species has. And kids hold the greatest promise of all. Their path should be cleared. They should get a solid, fundamental education. All of them. They should not be exposed to cruelty. Or abuse. Or poverty. Or drugs. Their health should be well cared for. And when they become men and women, when they are able to stand on their own two feet in this world, they should be free. Free to explore. Or Create. Or charge into the competitive corporate world. Or whatever. Freedom truly is a wonderful concept. Despite the way leeches and thugs try to use it to cast a favourable light on their own, despicable actions. But it is from this fundamental vision that my wife's heartache stems. It is in the unrealized potential. The vulnerability of these small human beings. These hopes. And their loss. So that is one dark flipside of going to work each morning to 'save lives'.

Another one is the humdrum banality that creeps in with any job. This feeling of the wonder of your work slowly slipping away, because of repetitiveness. Or routine. Or lack of novelty. Or something. You clock in to your work at a hospital, just as you would to any other work. It is a job. And it can become just that. Which brings me to another way to lose the feelings you experience in your work: Callousness. Detachment. Apathy. That incremental deafening. Slowly growing numb to the things that make your heart beat faster. Which is, in my view, not a big deal if your job is to, for example, interpret the same set of corporate tax code clauses all day, every day. But it is profoundly sad when those that work with people's lives in their hands each day grow apathetic to their jobs. And the saddest thing about it is how many actually succumb to this, become depleted and burnt-out, but still stay on in these jobs.

So the bottom-line is perhaps that we all have existential dilemmas to deal with. And they are ongoing. And ever-prevalent. Maybe trying to find the purpose of your life in your job is folly. Maybe one should look for it in a more obvious place: In our people. Our children, our spouses, our friends.

Of course that sounds corny. Many truths do.

This one says it all:

I just love this guy.

Jon Stewart, on C-SPAN!

What more can I say?

Actually, then check out his Hitler/Larry King scetch, if you haven't seen it / read it already.

America, you have failed. You have given your mandate to the village idiot.

What will be the next acquisition for the Empire? Probably Iran.

Depressing. Utterly and completely.

The test has begun.

And if this idiot gets re-elected, there will be no more excuses. Not that you need it, America, because you are an empire now. You are no longer a reality-based community. It is outdated to ask for permission, or listen to other opinions. You should act decisively, without hesitation. You must be guided by an unwavering conviction, whether or not it happens to be grounded in any reason, truth, or facts. Firmness over thought, toughness over sanity. Almost makes you want to say 'Arbeit macht frei'. Absolute power really does corrupt absolutely.

Oh, and for you nincompoops who have been yapping about how the newest videotape by that deranged madman, bin Laden, shows that we need Bush, the strong Commander-in-Chief, hunting him down, let me refresh your selective memory a bit.

So vote. If you can, and haven't already. Take the test.

And don't flunk it.