The Best Thing That Happened This Week: The Pundits Were Wrong
The most puzzling thing about the 2016 election wasn’t the outcome. It was that the whole vast Rube Goldbergian prediction apparatus that had sprung up around it — the analysts, the prognosticators, the Cassandras, the Jeremiahs, the diviners of spreadsheets and columns of numbers, the poll-takers, the robo callers, the worshippers at the altar of Excel, the men who huddle over keyboards in dark corners, the relentless parade of ceaseless talking heads — was wrong. Upside-down. Bass-ackwards. Couldn’t tell shit from Shinola. All that time, energy, electricity, pancake makeup, hairspray, caffeine and spittle, spent on naught. And you know what that means?
We never have to pay attention to anything they say again.
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