Now, gather ‘round friends, and allow me to tell you of a curious show held recently in that fine circus tent of solemnity known as the Nevada State Legislature. The Secretary of State, a sprightly fellow named Cisco Aguilar, hosted what he calls Election Demonstration Day—a harmless soundin’ name–though it’s always wise to be suspicious when politicians start “demonstratin’” things.
It’s usually when the real trickery begins.
Lawmakers and various specimens of the elected sort got invited to ogle at blinking lights, humming gadgets and technical gobbledygook stretched across two floors of the building as if they were children in a candy store—only these candies cost millions and come wrapped in legalese. On the first floor were poll pads, sleek devices that look like they might check your vitals but are used to check voters in. On the second floor was what one might call the “Wizard’s Den,” a technicolor dream of election machinery and vendors laid out like a mechanical buffet.
There, legislators got the rare treat of pretending to be just folks, asking questions like, “How does this thing work?” and being answered with a precision that only exists when no votes are at stake.
“This is about education,” Aguilar chirped, “because once the actual election comes, things get chaotic.”
It’s reckoned he’s not wrong. Elections get chaotic, and chaos, as any old gambler knows, is the best time to palm a card or slip a ballot.
Aguilar’s idea, you see, is that transparency breeds trust—which is mighty fine in theory until you realize you’re gettin’ shown only what they want you to see. It’s like a magician doing card tricks with transparent sleeves and hoping you’ll forget to ask what’s up his other hand.
Two election-related bills—Assembly Bill 306 and Senate Bill 102—were getting their second round of gussying up in committee during all this “transparency.” It’s convenient timing, and nothing in politics ever happens by accident.
As the Secretary claimed, “This is an opportunity for legislators and state leaders to understand the systems we are using.”
Indeed. That’s how one learns which parts to break, which gears to grease, and which levers to pull come next November.
He even brought in vendors—the folks who build the machines—to let legislators talk to them directly–no filters, no meddling. Now I ask you– when was the last time you got to sit down with the fellow who made your toaster and ask him how it might one day burn your house down? But in this circus, the clowns sit at the judge’s bench, and vendors perform like trained seals, promising faster counting, better processing, and more “capacity,” all noble goals if you assume nobility is still in fashion.
Aguilar promises improvements are coming, especially for rural and tribal communities, though I reckon they’ll see about as much real benefit as a cat sees from a bath. But no matter—it’s the gesture that counts, and gestures are what politicians do best.
So take heed, dear reader. When the state puts on a show in the name of clarity, it’s often to distract from the sleight of hand. And when lawmakers “learn the system,” they’re learnin’ how it works—and how to work it.
After all, democracy may be the will of the people–but elections–that’s show business.