Signs for a mayoral election have been popping up, which makes me think perhaps we are going to have one at some point.
Post-apocalyptic news coverage is spotty, and it’s unclear how authoritative reporters or sources are. A lot of people continue to work in the same capacities that they did before the Series of Unfortunate Catastrophes, but without boss or paycheck. So if you once worked for the Board of Elections, but there’s no one else in charge, do you simply decide for yourself when an election will be held? And if you are a reporter, do you take that person’s word for it that there will actually be an election and go ahead and report it?
Even the borders of Chicago and its suburbs have become amorphous. Two new publications, both of which print on the rattiest looking paper ever and only in black and white, say that all the North Shore suburbs have become part of a new city called either “Forest Shores” or “Xtreme Ravine” depending on which paper you read.
But who is it telling us this? I don’t know how seriously to take this election business or the idea that there is no more Evanston, Wilmette, or Glencoe. On the other hand, it’s hard for me to ignore these issues entirely since most of the campaign signs for the mayor of Xtreme Ravine are ones for my nemesis, Beefcake.
Jill Riddell is a writer in Chicago. She teaches at the School of the Art Institute and has a weakness for nature, magic, and pennies abandoned in sidewalk cracks.