Please Do Not Vote Today. Thank You, Dear, by Dolores Umbridge

Oh, there’s no need to get up. Do remain seated, I prefer to dispense the benefits of my advice to an orderly audience.

What a charming home you have—I can see that you’ve done all of the painting yourself rather than pay a professional. Such hands-on initiative. Why, you can hardly even count how many amateurish mistakes have been made.

I could not help but notice the various political signs marring your front lawn. That surely cannot be in line with the housing codes, can it? But then again, America is such an untamed and troubled young country in need of proper guidance. No discipline, you see.

I knew it was my duty to stop by and set you on a better path—even if I am, of course, but a humble visitor to your shores. You needn’t listen to little old me, though you should if you wish to amount to anything in life. Now then, where were we?

Ah, yes: what I’m here to tell you, my dear, is that you absolutely mustn’t vote. Such a terrible exercise in futility. It used to be, where I come from, that only men who owned enough land to matter could cast a ballot, but I’m afraid even my fair Kingdom has lost its way in this respect. Increased suffrage was a frightful mistake, and we continue to navigate its fall-out.

Voting is ever so fraught in my native environs that the noble effort to separate ourselves from the rabble of Europe came down to a horrifyingly slim margin. If you insist on going through with this voting madness here in the United States, at least model yourself on our recent triumph. You must emulate Britain’s initiative and vote to close yourself off from countries trying to do business with you—I should say, trying to leech from your superior vitality—and stand boldly on your own two feet.

Your splendid President is setting a fine example of this already; why would you waste your time in voting otherwise? I say, let him burn every so-called international ally at the stake until naught but stately Saudi Arabia remains. But we were speaking about you, were we not? I do forget myself.

What is most important is that you learn the lessons from your own 2016 experience and our brilliant Brexit outcome and stay home today. Voting is so very, very silly, and the right side—that is, those harnessing the potent forces of fear and division—will always win. I’m afraid that it is quite inevitable.

It’s clear that your enchanting President Trump does not want his opposition to have the opportunity to vote against him, and you simply must respect his authority. There is nothing more admirable than an uncompromising man who is absolutely bent on maintaining his power above all other things. Morals, rules of law, common decency—all fall beneath his slight yet vengeful hand. It is beautiful to watch unfold.

Surely you can see that there is no other way? Marvelously, the President’s way is paved with babies ripped from their parents’ arms and depths of delicious corruption that would make even our Dark Lord blush. Yes, I see you shiver in delight; I can barely contain my own.

I am so glad that we could have this chat, you and I, and that you must now accept the vile error of voting at all?

Oh my, thank you, I would love a cup of tea. I take it dark as the spilled blood of a naughty child. Six sugars, please. Aren’t you darling.

(images: Warner Bros.)

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