Come in, come in! Your presence gladdens me. Sit down! You look confident. That is good.
Reassured, you say? You are reassured, Gentlemen, by these models of the election outcome? That will be a cheering sight to see, and I sorely need a cheering sight. I need not tell you that these past four years have been taxing. But I have done as the doctors said; I have voted; I have tried to catch a few winks of sleep; I wear my mask; I try to keep myself from shocks. So it will do me good to see these numbers, such numbers as you say have reassured you about the outcome of the election, numbers that have enabled you to make such statements as, “After Trump is gone,” and, “This might be the last debate with Trump in it,” and, “When Joe Biden is in Office — ” Optimistic statements, indeed, good Sirs! I would never dare to venture such remarks unless I could feel confidence.
I have felt no confidence since that horrible incident of four years ago. I knew their prognostications could not give me certainty, but it was one thing to know it in an intellectual way and another to see that ghastly cast of Red fall like a pall over the entirety of the map —
Nay, I grow agitated. The anniversary of that fatal night is nearly upon us.
Show me this reassuring picture that you see! I wish to be reassured! I refuse to indulge in any confident statements about the future save to go so far as to say that the election will occur, is, indeed, occurring, and all the ballots shall, I hope, be counted — and already “hope” has entered into it! The nervous, fluttering thing at the bottom of Pandora’s box. Gentlemen, continue. Show me these polls, and models, that reassure you so. Not merely the reassurance engendered by such polls as say, “I intend to vote for so and so,” and “Were the election held today, I would — ” for Man intends many things he does not undertake, and for many the election is Not held today.
Five Thirty Eight, you say! Yes, I shall look. Hold it nearer to the candle — I am feebler than I was.
You say you find these numbers reassuring? DO YOU NOT SEE IT, GENTLEMEN? THE RED MAP!
Surely you cannot see it, then! It is only I who sees it: that red map, lurking, in Twelve of One-Hundred possible scenarios! THE SELF-SAME MAP! THAT DREADED RED MAP, GENTLEMEN! The very map that beset us four years ago, and cast this curse of Trump upon us! It mocks at us! How can you take comfort when it lurks behind just slightly more than 1-of-10 possible doors? You would not dare a labyrinth with such odds! And yet you bid me cheer myself at such a picture?
They have updated the model to account for the ways it was wrong before? Cold