I should want to use this moment in time to chat about the up coming election on Tuesday, but after looking at the mock ballot in the paper this week, I can sum up my voting rather quickly: vote for all the democrats, retain all the judges, and punch yes to all the constitution amendments and bond issues. I've never been less excited to go to the polls.

This week, I finished the Philip K. Dick novel The Divine Invasion. It's a story about the return of God to Earth where he has been absent for centuries. They smuggle the unborn God in the womb of woman with MS with the help of a man obsessed with pop star Linda Fox. Thick with religious passages and theological quandaries, it reinforced my idea that organized religion is much more of a burden than a blessing. Wow, I'm only in my second paragraph, and I have already said something to doom my own political career. Kind of like the N.M. Green Candidate for governor.

That reminds me. Are you really a political party if your only candidate is the distant third choice for governor? The definition of grass roots is that you start on the local level, not pitch up one sitting duck on the state level. The third party is dead yet again.

Speaking of the dead, it was a year ago this weekend when one of my best friends died of a heroin overdose. While I've had my share of ups and downs since then, they all pale in comparison to losing Brian. The unintentional result is that I have become more polite and distant with people. I wish everyone the best, but at the same time, I really don't want to know the intimate details of their lives anymore. I don't expect people to understand or relate to what I had to go through to get back to a sense of normalcy, but at the time, I couldn't care less about self-made drama and trivial aspects of everyone else's existence. The truth is that I will never recover from his sudden passing. I have to simply move on and quietly remember him for the rest of my days.

This soft apathy applies to my views of political issues as well. TV stations asked gubernatorial candidates about what they were going to do about drunk drivers, uninsured drivers, and pork projects of state representatives. You might as well ask what we're going to do about all the cold days or bad weather. Some things in life are inevitable. As long as alcohol is available, some people will drive drunk. As long as people are poor, some will drive without insurance. As long as politicians get contributions, some will draft legislature projects that benefits certain members of their constituency. I don't rely on the government to take care of me. I don't expect the police to protect me. I don't expect anything from anyone anymore. I consider all the help I receive as a favor, and all the resistance I receive as a hindrance. Human nature is very good at displaying both sides of the same coin.

Speaking of favors, I agreed to be part of a staged reading for a play writing class at UNM this weekend. A quick presentational piece with the simple message that art instructs life. I played the part of A God, which involved standing tall, speaking deliberately, and being above it all. It was fun to be performing in front of people again (I hadn't done anything official since April), and I can always say for the rest of my life that I was A God for a brief period of time.

While I was A God, I didn't worry about things such as elections, candidates, or bond issues. I didn't worry about the problems of man or the joy and pain the pass on to each other on a daily basis. I didn't concern myself with who would gain control of the House or Senate. It was all just a little game that America played in attempt to say they were free individuals.

Now I'm back to being a man, and I will do my patriotic duty of pushing the flashing buttons on Election Day. I honestly have more fun selecting which of the 31 flavors of ice cream I want to eat, but of course, when you only have two choices per category, how much fun are you supposed to have? When did this indifference occur? Will the electoral process ever be impressive again? Only A God knows.

Chris Jungle votes at Freedom High School, which was created for students that got kicked out of other public schools in town.