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No room for debate when there’s asses and elephants in the room.

By Joe DeLong

Dramatically narrated television commercials. One-line slogans inked on t-shirts and pins. Talking heads spouting spin and rhetoric. Welcome to an American election year. If you listen closely, somewhere under the alternating chants of “Four more years!” and “Throw the bums out!” there is an ever growing chorus that seems to ask, ”What. The. Fuck?” Granted it’s not something you’re likely to see on a sign on your neighbor’s lawn, but the sentiment rings true for millions of people.

Teams are set. Captains are chosen. It’s what we expect. A line is drawn in the sand, and we’re asked to pick sides. Which way do we turn? Left or Right? Which lever do we pull? Which button do we push? While we’re busy choosing between Lesser Evil Number 1 and Lesser Evil Number 2, we often overlook the other names on the ballot, the ones without the ‘R’ or ‘D’ after them.

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