The electoral college system is out-of-date, designed for a much smaller population, and rife with error-prone flaws, but it’s admittedly way more complicated and logical and systematized than what I thought happened, which was that my vote was removed from the ballot box and carried on a gold platter to an old man wearing a tuxedo with tails and a tophat who examined my vote through his monacle, and depending on which candidate I chose he either shouted “HEAH HEAH,” or “I DO SAY.” You know, voting.