AN OPEN LETTER TO THE COUNTY OF BOULDER, CO:

Dudes.

My nose has begun to bleed. I am trying to wipe it discreetly, but I can't really leave my polling both – that would be too conspicuous. I contemplate ripping off a tiny piece of my ballot aand shoving it up my nose to stem the rising flood of red indignation.

My nose is bleeding, Colorado, and it's because of you. You seem to understand me okay on this first page of questions ... who should be governor, who should be county commissioner, who should be the chief of police? I have opinions. I have a voice.

But, Colorado, why are you asking me who should be county coroner?

Boulder, I think it's only fair to announce that you've herniated me.

First off, I am not dead, and therefore not one of the county coroner's constituents. If anything, you should setting up a crackerjack team of Oujia boardists to hold an all-dead election just for this guy.

Secondly, Colorado. Why. WHY. WHY would it matter to me whether my coroner is Democratic or Republican or Libertarian or Jewish? Why am I voting the party line for a man whose job is effectively to poke a dude in the face and say, “Yeah. He's dead.”? Call me a dreamer, but I'd like to believe a man's competence in spotting deadness is in no way corellated to his political beliefs.

So guess what, Colorado? When I bleed to death from the aneurism you just gave me, I will be interested to know all the details of the coroner-election. Until such time as I am not-breathing, however, I shall continue to itierate: what the fuck.