A Battle Cry for the Unpolled

That’s me.

Is that you, too?

Haven’t received a pollster call in years and years. But I do want to mention I receive calls from one or another woman on behalf of the Republican National Committee. Although I’m fascinated by why they’d be phoning a woman who lives in the 212 area code, I haven’t been fascinated enough to pick up their calls. Which are ID’d on my phone as SPAM/RISK.

I do take a look at the polls now and then but I can’t make sense of them. I suspect the polling companies have been as traumatized by years of hideous national events as we all are.

So we who have been neglected and mistreated by pollsters, we who are brutally excluded from being one of, oh, maybe 400 special people who have been polled — arise! Our hour is here! (Well, almost: my early voting begins on Oct 26.) We go to the kind of battle we’re meant to fight, the one for which the only arms we need are our own. The arms with our hands and fingers at the end of them.

And with those arms (and appurtenances) we go to battle to defeat the pollsters! We vote!

Note: Written to Khachaturian’s huge, moving and exciting cello concerto in E-minor, written and premiered in 1946. As Wikipedia states, “The work was one of the reasons Khachaturian was ousted from the Composers Union, and he and other Soviet composers were denounced for formalism in the Zhdanov Decree of 1948.” (Stalin died in 1953, after which the accused were relieved of their unfortunate designation.)

P.S. Can you figure out why I found myself dropping the above into this?

 

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