Yesterday was a nonpolitical day - I usually listen to WNYC and beloved Brian Lehrer, BBC World and Democracy Now!, but I just couldn't take it, it almost hurt. Only one thing matters at this point: the vote. Instead of saturating myself with news on news coming from DR Congo and Somalia, and the massive mash of election and economy coverage, I bathed in the hours and hours of music I've acquired lately from various sources. The crunked FruityLoops dubstep of Benga, the dark crooner Mahmoud Ahmed and his funky horn band, the hypnotic Gang Gang Dance, Zé Di's explosive samba, the wailing sarod of Asad Qizilbash, the gentle, lush, slightly dissonant indie pop of Broadcast. In the afternoon, I bought compact, rather insufficient computer speakers and plugged them in when I got home. Can you believe that, in a full year without having stereo speakers, I only went out to buy some yesterday - and they were mere computer speakers? Oh, what you have missed for so long, with only the tinny amplification of a Macbook! To full blast the new speakers went, creating a rhythmic, melodic and harmonic massage.
Well, a few minutes ago I walked a couple blocks to the local elementary school and voted for Barack Obama and Joe Biden. Now it's just a matter of waiting out the day - all of us, Brian Lehrer, the NY Times election team, the Arts and Letters editors, the Iraqi journalists on Inside Iraq, contributors to Cokemachineglow and Resident Advisor, the young people in black winter coats and black eyeshadow waiting in line behind me, my coworkers, all of us have to endure the excitement, anticipation, anxiety and tension of this day. Hearing the results that will come in late tonight, literally seeing and hearing them, knowing that they are truth, might feel like drowning. Or, it could be like breathing air again.