Day: August 18, 2012

In recent weeks much has been made of stricter voter identification laws which have been upheld in Pennsylvania and have already been passed in many right-leaning states. The law itself dictates that voters must have valid photo identification in order to cast an in person ballot in the November elections. According to the AP, Republicans defend the law as necessary to protect the integrity of the election. Democrats, on the other hand, question the true intentions of the provision however, as it is believed that it may suppress certain lower-income voters, who traditionally vote Democrat, who don’t happen to have official government issued ID.

It’s difficult to say why anyone would get the inclination that there was any sinister or otherwise ulterior motive behind Republicans pushing for and passing these laws. Yes, Jim Greer, the former chairman of the GOP in Florida recently claimed that he sat in meetings where “political consultants and staff were talking about voter suppression and keeping blacks from voting,” but what would someone in charge of Republican voters in one of the largest Republican voting states in America know? Are we to be convinced that there are Americans out there who don’t have a driver’s license because they happen to take the bus and don’t need a passport because they can’t necessarily afford to take regular voyages on Carnival cruise lines? Please.

Some are saying the laws are unnecessary, especially given the findings of a recent study conducted by News21 that found that out of 600 million votes cast, only 10 cases of voter fraud have occurred since 2000. Yes, 10 might seem like a small number, but that’s only if you fail to put it in perspective. For example, there have been more cases of voter fraud since 2000 (10) than Harry Potter movies released (eight) during that same time period — and it feels like there have been so many Harry Potter movies released since 2000. Or, since 2000, voter fraud has happened five times as frequently as Britney Spears marriages (two).

I have to commend these brave politicians pushing through this crucial legislation, but I feel that if they’re truly this passionate about ensuring our democracy functions properly, perhaps they should consider introducing another provision: Voter IQ laws. Yes, making sure that we only allow real Americans who work at jobs that will allow them to leave on a weekday to wait in line at the DMV for four hours is a good first step, but I feel that if we truly want to honor the vision of the Founding Fathers, we should in fact only allow those who are informed on basic issues vote. Thomas Jefferson himself once said, “Democracy demands an educated and informed electorate,” and we’re all about taking everything the Founding Fathers said literally in this country. As such, I’ve taken it upon myself to design a basic three question primer that voters could be required to answer correctly before casting a ballot:

1. What country was the current President of the United States born in?

2. Is America legally a Christian nation?

3. Name three government agencies.

As you can probably see, I designed the questions with the intention that they would in no way suppress voters as any rational, reasonable, informed citizen would be able to answer them correctly without much thought. It’s only three questions! The first addresses basic American civics dictating that the President of the United States must be born in the United States. The answer is in the question itself, so I don’t really see this being a barrier for any voting block. The second goes over basic First Amendment facts — you know the “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof,” stuff people learn about in third grade. The final question is just there to determine if you’re Rick Perry.

You see, democracy isn’t reliant on people voting, it’s reliant on the right people voting. As such, it is our responsibility as a nation to ensure that we make things as inconvenient and difficult as possible when it comes to casting a ballot, so that only the people who really want to vote get to. In fact, to streamline the process further, maybe we should just allow one person of extreme intellect and wealth cast one vote that counts for everyone. We could just call him a king or something — you know, just like the Founding Fathers envisioned.

Follow Dan Treadway on Twitter: www.twitter.com/dan_treadway

It came on like “God Bless America” during the seventh-inning stretch of a Yankees game: Tolerated, but surviving solely on inertia. True to form, and for the eleventh consecutive year, Slate republished its 2001 article “August: Let’s Get Rid Of It,” on the first of the month.

If you’ve managed to avoid this warmed-over smug blanket, I will summarize. “August” is a decade-old half-joke rant by Slate’s chief editor, David Plotz, who declares the eighth month on the calendar to be useless and dismal, not to mention hot and muggy, and recommends giving roughly a third of its days to July and a third to September, leaving a ten-day August. He goes on at some length weaving together legitimate criticisms (bad TV), pointless disheartening coincidences (unloveable people who were born and lovable people who died), and bad jokes (“Sonny and Cher” debuted). “August” is the ultimate in cherry-picking, carpet-bombing the reader with factoids of doom offset by a token admission of the month’s few endearing qualities—more birthdays—just to reassure you that the author is being honest. Which he isn’t. Which is fine. Because it’s a joke.

The Plotz plan to chop up August and allow July and September to annex its endparts is a fine thought exercise, even if wound up by a winking opening statement. My concern is the burgeoning August hate industry, which has even gained a toehold here. Consider the recent Sports Illustrated column by Steve Rushin, an athletically themed takeoff on the Slate stalwart. Despite the drama of the London games (actually, amid the drama of the London games), smiling Steve declared August a month void of meaning, a pause between the NBA playoffs and MLB All-Star Game of midsummer and the resumption of tackle football in the autumn. Even February, once the dog of the calendar, now has the Super Bowl. August, the dog days of the calendar, has Royals-Indians Games.

Rushin is not wrong; nor is Plotz. But no candidate should run unopposed. I hereby offer this defense of August.

IT’S HOT

Remember all those damp, blustery afternoons of March, when you daydreamed of sipping pastel boozy concoctions at sun-dappled sidewalk cafes, possibly overseas? Well, you can’t afford international airfare. But you don’t need month full of cultural self-importance and paid holidays to become your own fantasy. Sweat, and drink. Do it in sexy clothes. August won’t care. Unlike holiday times of year, it’s not guilting you into spending your vacation eating fowl and making small talk with your family. So go ahead and use a personal day to get that 2 p.m. brunch and lose a few hours to mimosas and remembrances of drunks past. In August, nothing planned is nothing to escape.

After today, 15 full days of August remain. So eat overpriced ice cream. Have a mint julep and say something polite. Acquire an extravagant fan. Fan yourself. Imagine everything you’ll be longing to do during the short days of January and do it, preemptively.

Afternoon project: Make your own Abercrombie and Fitch advertisement. Pair your plaid shorts to a blue long-sleeved Oxford shirt, even though it’s 87 degrees outside, and have a friend photograph you in come-hither repose. Wear a hat, maybe. Send the photographs to up-and-coming local talents scouts, along with a basket of scented oils and a handwritten postcard that reads, “Suck it, June.”

Evening Project: Get married. Really twist the knife in June’s wound.

I’M BORED

What’s that, kid? August TV is lame, the movies are summer blockbuster also-rans, and the live sports are pointless? I hate to be the bearer of good news, but we’re living in an era of unprecedented media options, in which paying a few bucks monthly for Hulu Plus and a few bucks more for Netflix yields an impossibly large video catalog. The completist’s nightmare shall be your salvation.

Additionally, the cash-hemorrhaging media giants may soon decide they don’t want you to have such easy access to their quality programming and either destroy such services or refuse to grant you access unless you’re already paying for an outrageous cable package. The good time may not last. Get in your binge now, before all those culturally significant events on your September calendar.

Or, get off your ass and go places. Places are still around, just waiting for your going. Your going is really the lifeblood of their being. Plus you could really move around a little and get some fresh, humid air. You’re not looking so good.

NOTHING GOOD EVER HAPPENED IN AUGUST

Plotz offers up a progression of uninspiring August birthdays as evidence of the month’s deficiency. Big-namers like Bill Clinton and Barack Obama, but small-timers like Herbert Hoover and Benjamin Harrison.

Frankly, name-days are among the worst ways to judge a month. It’s downright anti-scientific, giving credence to horoscopic ideal that birthdays guide not only your destiny, but also the month’s. It’s time to put down this sickly notion and focus on the real record: What actually happened in August, according to this homeschooling website I found during a lazy Google search.

The good:
• Charles Wheeler patented the escalator
• First U.S. milk inspectors appointed!
• Lunar Orbiter 1 took the first photographs of Earth

The bad:
• Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans
• Anne Frank captured
• Woodstock Music and Art Festival began

The mixed:
• Mt. Vesuvius exploded (consider the archaeological record, folks)

Final tally:
Push. Time to make your own August history.

I HAVE TO GO BACK TO SCHOOL

Sorry, not a legitimate gripe. If you’re under 18, we’re all going to use your different legal status to justify not having to care about what you think. (We’re not ageists; it’s the law.) If you’re over 18, you’re either paying to attend school or somebody is paying for you. So shut up. And if you’re in graduate school, I’d like to take this moment to apologize to you on behalf of your horrible lapse in judgment.

For those of you anticipating the resumption of seriousness after summer’s endless laxness, right on. Get an early start. For the rest of you, August provides an excuse to lie to yourself about why you’re buying that new MacBook Air. You need it for school.

THE NAME SUCKS

No, it doesn’t. Like your precious July, August was named for a Roman ruler. Yet instead of being named for a ruler who ignited civil war through sheer hubris and somehow met his end through a stab in the back (our pal Julius Caesar), August is named after a ruler, Augustus, who knew what the fuck he was doing: consolidating power, becoming an emperor, presiding over the dawn of the Pax Romana, and living for three-quarters of a century in an era when people dropped dead left and right from diseases you’ve already forgotten about.

THERE ARE NO GOOD HOLIDAYS

July gets Independence Day, though just barely. September get Labor Day, though just barely. August offers no federal holidays, only a checklist of those pretend celebrations such as Lazy Day and National Underwear Day that exist mainly to set up opening gags on “Pardon The Interruption” or get David Letterman through yet another monologue. (Still, let’s not rush to judgment on International Beer Day).

I feel the need to reiterate here that the legal holidays you pine for are often terrible. Founded on abstractions or anniversaries, coming to you fettered with family problems, and forcing you into begrudging gift-buying. If you take a random day off in the middle of August, nobody has to know about it outside your office, so nobody has to pressure you into coming over for dinner and strained conversation. Don’t ask, don’t tell, don’t make pot roast.

WE ARE ALL AUGUST

July is the month we wish we were: traditional, festive, patriotic, family-friendly. August is the month we really are: hot, stupid, and devoid of meaning. July is baseball and burgers; August is Arby’s roast beef & cheddar and “Toddlers & Tiaras.”

Enjoy it! Ignore your relatives. Don’t take the kids to the ballpark—and afterward, tell ’em you’re glad they’ll be back in school soon. Shower their piano playing with listless, half-hearted praise. No kids? Sneak hooch into a public pool and make a scene during adult swim. Get your special person to forgive you for whatever it is you’ve done by bringing home a summer bouquet unexpectedly. Slack off at work and read interesting articles, because everybody has an excuse to be lazy. It’s August, for goodness’ sake.

So much to do. And here you are, complaining.

Andrew Moseman is the online editor of Popular Mechanics. He may or may not be the one who has to listen to John Wenz’s dumb questions about science. Photo by DSB NOla.