Let's Talk About Polls

(And I mean really talk about polls, not the people living alongside the Vistula and enjoying a tasty kielbasa, nor the girls twirling around on stage circumnavigating a rounded metal shaft.) I mean Polls!

One week to go. One more week of frenzy, fretting, and frenetically freaking out. I think I speak for everyone when I write “I want it to be over.” But what if it’s really “Over”… The dragon has killed St. George and has run off with the damsel to live unhappily ever after? That would be much worse\ of course, because our misery would be no longer impending, beyond questioning, and likely unending.

But all this current uncertain dread cannot continue. It’s not good for our health. Or our tab at the liquor store.

Anyway, I’ve been giving it a lot of thought and doing some research on-line to investigate the cause of all our forebodings: It’s the fucking polls, stupid. When Trump troglodytes look at them from their wackadoodle world (bless their little hardened hearts), they think they are due for champagne and a kingly coronation. Meanwhile everyone else is worrying about “But what happens if we lose ______ [<Fill in the Swing State]??”

So I’ve looked into polling, and I’ve learned some things. The modern public-opinion poll has been around since the Great Depression. And it can really fuck up. The Literary Digest predicted Alf Landon would win in 1936, the year of the Roosevelt landslide. All the polls predicted Dewey would win in 1948 to Harry Truman’s delight.

After that. the polls got pretty accurate at least big-picture-wise, except for 2000. And that was a squeaker. Even the University Professor (Allan Lichtman) who always gets it right, got it wrong then. But Gore did win the popular vote, which nowadays we know means absolutely nothing. And, of course, everyone expected Hillary Clinton would win in 2016, which she did in fact. But somehow we still got stuck with four years of Trump. (We’ll leave the Electoral College for another day.)

The pollsters say they are constantly refining their science, which is A Good Thing and certainly preferable to them telling us they are trying to make it worse. But why did they undercount Trump’s vote in 2016? Why did they undercount the Democrats in 2022? Why were they so off with the Kansas Abortion Amendment in 2020 and the Ohio Amendment in 2023??

I don’t know. If I did, I’d be a pollster (…like I’m not aggravated enough already.)

In brief, they suggest Trump people like to hide the fact that they might appear to be just another moron voting for a certified criminal. Got to keep shit like that quiet. But anti-Trump people are not frightened to fly the Fight Flag. So why were they missed in 2018, 2020, 2022, 2023?

I may have part of the answer. When polling started, pollsters went door-to-door like census takers. Later, by the 1980s, they discovered the clever invention of the telephone (!) and no longer had to resole their shoes as often. But we now live in a cellular age. And although the polls don’t rely on landlines as much (People still have landlines?? I thought I was the last one to get rid of the silly thing), the pollsters still “call.”

Have they not heard of texting???

And apparently when they call, they are not identified on your mobile phone as “The Polling Guys,” it’s just one of those numbers with one of those Area Codes you hardly ever see, OR maybe they come in as “Unknown.”

I can’t speak for you, but any phone number I don’t know, which doesn’t leave a message, gets blocked for eternity. When I get a phone call from someone I don’t know, I never pick up, I have a couple thousand blocked numbers! Tell me, what makes ANYone who hides their number behind “Unknown” think that any rational person would ever pick up? If you do, you may have a career in public polling!! You can’t block an Unknown number, but you need never talk to the imbecile that has one.

I don’t think I’m alone in all this. I think there are a ton of Gen Zs and Millennials out there who feel the same way. But these are just the kind of people who are more likely to support Kamala Harris. And are the pollsters contacting them??

And one last little tidbit caught my eye: In Trump Households, the Alpha Male rules, and the Alpha Male is voting for Trump, so obviously the Little Lady is too. The Anti-Trump Coalition is very wise to let these Little Ladies know that when they vote it’s a secret between them and their ballot. It’s a marvelous way to “stick it to The Man.” Also there are quite a number of Republicans who will never vote for Trump, and yet will not say they will vote for Harris. But if they end up voting for her, who’s to know?? Only the Election Total that’s who!

It’s pretty obvious that the pollsters want to make this a close race, because no matter who wins they can’t be wrong by very much. I don’t think pollsters are totally incompetent. Maybe you think the pollsters, whom “some, we assume, are good people,” want to put the fear of god into the anti-Trump voter and thus encourage them to get to the voting booth out of fright. Maybe. And maybe if you put your tooth under your pillow tonight, the Good Fairy will replace it with a quarter by tomorrow morning!

I think a more likely possibility is that there are a lot of betting markets out there, and a lot of them deal with crypto-currency. And who uses cryptocurrency?… The young affordable incel males, whom we are told, favor Trump! Close polls encourage these not-too-bright-and-likely-not-to-get-laid-ever-again guys to bet on their orange NFT hero. Now, if you were a clever pollster, wouldn’t you “massage” the statistics. A bit? Just to get the odds up… And then, you bet on Kamala Harris, whom you know for a fact is doing better than you let on… You rake in your own personal fortune!

Because of all these considerations, I am forced to conclude that don’t think this race is all that close! I don’t think Donald Trump is going to win the Electoral College. And I am damn certain that he will lose the popular vote… For. The. Third. Fucking. Time. Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

However, despite this considered and rational optimism, I still have a pit in my stomach. And I still want all this to be over.

One week. One week more. Shit.