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post-pussygate debate
Sunday, October 9 2016
[REDACTED]
I spent much of the afternoon doing work-related tasks (it was the weekend, I know, but I wanted to have good tools in place for Te when I started teach her SQL.) The most important of these was the presentation of query results as an HTML table, something I'd built back on the 6th of October. Today I added features allowing values in those tables to be hyperlinked (the specifics for such hyperlinks could be defined in the JSON component of the report) and for the headers for the columns in the results table to allow for re-sorting when clicked. These are all features of database tools I've built for myself, and I wanted the interactive query tool I was building to be much less ponderous than, say, the one in phpMyAdmin. I would've kept adding features all evening, but there was a debate-watching party to prepare for.
I went around on a surprisingly-thorough cleaning jihad, cleaning one thing until something I'd discover would send me cleaning something else. Often, though, I wouldn't be completely done with what I had been cleaning when I moved on to the next thing, and I would, much like a computer program, leave a memory of the previous thing on a mental stack, returning to it at the finish of the interrupting task. (Interrupting tasks included making the bed and cleaning up around the litter box.) [REDACTED]
By the time the debate watching party started, everyone had called to say they would't be coming except for Carrie, Michæl, and Nancy. Gretchen had made a lasagna to which I'd attached a tin foil sash reading "Miss Pussy" in pink faux 3D lettering. The highlight of it all was a cake Gretchen had baked made to resemble a used tampon, complete with braided nylon rope trailing from one end. Tonight's theme, you see, was "Fat Women," one of many groups Donald J. Trump seems to think are keeping America from achieving true greatness. Carrie had made a delicious kind of "fries" from chickpea flour, and Nancy brought over some sort of bean salad containing way too much squash.
After browsing on these things in front of a roaring fire in the living room, we went upstairs to prepare for the debate, which we assumed would be dominated by the "Pussy Tape" unearthed (though apparently not fabricated) by the liberal lying media in a desperate gambit to save Crooked Hillary.
Before that all began, Gretchen had us all watch the Pussy Tape (since not all of us had actually seen it), as well as a segment on The Daily Show wherein Ronny Chieng expresses his disgust at an appallingly-racist recent Bill O'Reilly "man-on-the-street report" from Chinatown featuring infamous chucklehead Jesse Watters.
For some reason nobody except me wanted to drink during the debate, I think because our options were limited and Gretchen didn't push the idea. So I there was sipping my gin from a coffee cup so as not to showcase my lushitude. But seriously, who can watch these things sober?
What a shitshow it was, with Donald Trump dismissing the Pussy Tape as "locker-room talk" and trying to smear Hillary Clinton somehow with the decades-old allegations about her husband. Despite how ridiculous all this was, I didn't think Clinton was doing a particularly good job of defending herself. Also, unlike last debate, it seemed Trump had actually done his homework and was better prepared. It was all lies and diversions, of course, but it came off more effectively than his first disastrous debate. It all left me kind of dispirited, and it wasn't just me. Josh Marshall over at TalkingPointsMemo.com seemed to have a similar reaction. But maybe we're just in this too deep and had allowed our sub-basement expectations to get the best of us, since snap polls after the debate indicated Clinton was the victor (though not by as much as in the first debate).
Gretchen's tampon cake.
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