There Be Poop Here

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Poop not included.

I hear there was some kind of debate yesterday?

Evidently, I missed it.

At the time it was going on, I was outside collecting eggs, mucking out a chicken coop, scraping botfly eggs off of three horses, and filling up our Gorilla Cart with horse poop.

Between those options and witnessing a sh*t show, I greatly preferred the ones I chose.

A proper presidential debate is an intelligent discussion of ideas and ideals that set a noble standard for Americans and the rest of the world. It is filled with soaring rhetoric that is long-remembered and oft-quoted in the annals of history. 

Debaters may differ on the details of their plan to reach such heights, but those differences are never so great that they can't be reconciled with a handshake—and later by, say, a Congress and a Judiciary working in good faith.

As a general, non-negotiable matter, a candidate's plan cannot be to violently overthrow our government after losing an election. Apparently this take is now controversial.

One of this year's candidates is old and tired, but he has done a creditable job cleaning up the feculent mess left by his predecessor.

The other "candidate" is old and severely disordered, in addition to being a felon, a sex offender, and an insurrectionist.

The two are not the same.

Between them, one is a rational, if mildly imperfect choice. 

The other is plainly and inevitably lethal to the hopes and dreams of billions of 
people at home and abroad—which one might argue is disqualifying.
***
Anyhoo, daybreak has once again come to the Hāmākua Coast. Chores are calling, and the Gorilla Cart isn't going to fill itself.

That's one thing I've learned from this little farm adventure we're on: if we get busy with other things (or just want to take a couple days off), all of a sudden the poop takes over.

At that point it takes a lot longer to clean up.