This is not my hand or my ‘I voted’ sticker. I was too lazy to get my camera and take a picture of my own ‘I voted’ sticker, so I just used Google.

According to my list, I was supposed to write and post something today about the election.  On second thought, though, I don’t really want to do that. I don’t want to write about how I voted because I wasn’t strongly in favor of any of the candidates and am not exactly proud of the decision I eventually made. I don’t want to write about specific political issues today because the internet already has plenty enough political discussion happening today. And I don’t want to write about the fact that the shirt I am wearing today has a very, very subtle political implication, because then I would have to explain that implication, and the act of explaining the reasoning behind it would ruin the clever subtlety and secrecy of the political statement.

Also, for the record, there is absolutely no political implication behind the way my fingernails are painted. Seriously, blue-with-silver-polka-dots and salmon-pink-with-green-polka-dots are the new “in” colors. Or at least, they would be if other people were more like me. This, people, is what true style and elegance look like. But, anyway, that’s enough about fingernails.

So here is something else that has absolutely nothing to do with politics or the election:  Wouldn’t it be nice if fortune cookies and horoscopes and stuff like that actually worked? I don’t even necessarily mean the kinds that make specific predictions; I’m thinking of the ones that give some vague and cliché piece of advice. In theory, if you just kept that phrase in mind and followed that advice, nothing bad could happen.

I stole this from the internet, too, because it amused me.

I think that’s why the idea of fortune telling is so fascinating. The safety net of having a personalized word of wisdom is more appealing than simply knowing what’s going to happen ahead of time. In fact, I’ve often heard people say that they wouldn’t want to know their own future, which seems to be a pretty common point of view. But, at least in theory, nobody would really want to turn down advice about how to make sure you are living your life correctly. So we eat cookies with advice hidden inside them, and many of us like to pretend to trust that advice.

When you think about it, though, the affinity for the superstition is just as silly as the superstition itself. If you just want a general cliché to treat as being significant, the world is full of silly motivational or inspirational clichés. In everyday life, we constantly come across random quotations, corny or otherwise, that impart some kind of wisdom or somehow seem meaningful. If you happen to read or hear something that strikes you as being significant and relevant, that’s probably actually more valid than a totally random piece of advice. And if you actually want something specific, you’re better off getting specific advice from a real person (or, depending upon the situation, a book on a relevant topic) than taking a generalized piece of advice from a cookie and trying to make it apply to a specific situation.

Come to think of it, I can imagine ways that the subject of fortune cookies could be taken as having politically implications. But, in the context of this blog post, the political implications were completely unintended, so we’ll ignore them.

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