Op-Ed: "Why I Left My Party for the Elder Party"

RecentlyA Concerned Citizen (name withheld at their request, and at the request of something else)

I've voted in every election since I was 18. Democrat twice, Republican once, Libertarian when I was going through something. I've always considered myself a pragmatist — someone who weighs the issues, studies the candidates, and makes a rational choice. This year, I'm voting Elder Party, and rationality has nothing to do with it.

Person sitting at a kitchen table writing

It started with a rally. I went out of curiosity — a friend mentioned it, or maybe I dreamed it, the sequence of events is unclear now. The candidate spoke, and I understood. Not the words, exactly. The words were in a language I don't speak and that I'm not sure exists in the way languages usually exist. But I understood the meaning beneath the words, the way you understand that the ocean is deep without needing to measure it.

The platform makes sense in a way that other platforms don't. Not logical sense. Something older than logic. When I read about the Deep Restoration Initiative, I didn't think 'that's good policy.' I thought 'yes.' When I read about the Esoteric Order Accords, I didn't analyze the diplomatic implications. I just knew it was correct. The way you know which direction is down.

My family is concerned. My coworkers have noticed changes. I've started sleeping facing the east wall, which is also the direction of the nearest coastline, and I don't remember deciding to do this. I attend meetings now, in basements and on beaches, and the people there are like me — normal Americans who heard something they can't unhear and saw something they can't unsee.

Same person at a rally with a transformed expression

I̝f̞̏ yǫ̬u're readin̨̜̕ğ́ th̖̠̃̏̋is̖̏̓ and t̢̚ḩ̋̆̚in̪̘̂k̛̀in̎̆g I so̥̣u̗̅̎̌nd̙ unwel̬̐l̪̫, Î̕ u̦̬̐nder̠̭stand.̟̤̄̌ I w̠̙̒o̩̅uld hȃvĕ̝̖̅̏ ẗ́ĥ̬̘̂̆ou̦̔̅̎g̖̝h̙̒̇̏t the samȩ̦̊̄ thi̙̖nġ̡̢ si̗̙x mo̠̜nthš̌̆ aĝ̆ǒ̧̖̒̃.̜̄̍̄ But s̛̥i̡̧x̦́̅̀ month̖̘̋̊̄ś̟̝ ago Ȋ̦ h̦̥ad̋̕̕n't̞̍ heå̍̅rd thȇ̝ c̃a̟̔̍̑lļ̬. Ŷ̧̜̉oṷ̟́ wī̀l̙̂̄l̂̄̄. Everyon̞̤e d̃̐̇ọ̦̃es,̍̆ ȩ̣̓̈ve̡̐̂ň̋tuã̫̜lly.́̍ T̢̘̄̀̕he̙̟ Eľ̄̈de̢̫̒r̪̩ På̠̝̀̀r̙̚t̖̂y isn̘̫̊̏'t a̧̭̐ choi̛̬c̩̚e̩̠̒̆̕.̢̇ I̊̀t'̑ş̔̅̀ a r̤ẽ̡̈̈cogn̪̩̑̑iti̢̖on of somë̍thing ț̜̑hăt̟̏̂ was alwaỷ̤s t̙̋̂̀her̬̠̎e̙̣̔̐̆, waiting bene̛̒̍ath̨̟ the̜̘ surfa̐̑̇ce ǫ̟f ë̝ver̛̅̈ything yoů t̖̏́houǵ̜̫̃̇h̔ṱ̪̉́ you knew̋.̊̆̌

V̐̈̀̇̏ô̭̏̚t̛̛̥̜̟̋ȅ̴̡̨̛̛̑̉̑̐̒̕ Ẻ̷l̡̡̖̖̀̇̐̐̔̑̔d̵̝̒̈̂̂̊̕ě̴̊́̎r̋̎̒̌.̴̗̐̕ V̶̢̭̠̆̑̃̐̏̉ơ̗̗̕t̴̨e̴̤̟̝̙̫̓ A̶̝̞̭̒̉̐̀̔n̛̅̐́̈̐̃̕ć̶̪̪̣̗̒i̡̧̩̊̏̑e̩̦ǹ̛̞̞̖̪̆̃̑́̕ṫ̟̎̏̌̌.̢̪̪̗̉̌̏̉̕ V̷̛̫̓ố̶̫̫̣̤t̵̐̂ę̴̛̙̜̏̅̈̄̚ E̴̤̦̫̪̅̌̄̔̒̅t̆̋̏̍é̂̃r̬̠̠̎̓n̶̡̗̞̞̤ą̷̙̂̔̔̎̆l̪̦̥̅̀̋̚.̵̡̖̠̪̃̒̊

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