The midterm elections are over, and only some people have spoken. The rest of us—approximately 60 percent of the voting age population—went to the gym, laughed over coffee with a friend, wished upon a star, gave the dog a bath and basically tuned out our important elections and continued living our lives. It was a great day: no lines, anywhere. Then I saw a rainbow.

The representative government that the United States prides itself on and brandishes to the world is a lie; or, to put it in euphemistically glossy politician-speak, a “misnomer.” Thirty-seven percent of the voting-age population turned out in the 2006 midterm elections, and the figure wheezed a couple points higher in 2010. The two-party system owes its vitality to middle-to-upper-class white people over 50, who are generally right of the center and educated. Seventy-seven percent of them actively stay informed about issues in government and public affairs, according to the Pew Research Center—a non-partisan outlet.

The profile for non-voters is the reverse: They tend to be younger, less educated and less affluent relative to the voting public. They also disproportionately belong to minority groups—blacks and Hispanics in particular. The social, ethnic and economic composition of this rootless, disenchanted mass is tailor-made for liberal absorption. If only Democrats were liberals.

Additional data from the Pew Research Center’s extensive survey formally concludes that nonvoters tend to be liberal. But not so liberal as to join ranks with, say, the Green Party, whose trifling political and economic resources can’t do battle with the ungodly firepower of the two major parties.

A significant yet unquantifiable number of non-voters are likely ignorant of America’s obscure alternative to the Democratic Party, just as a marginal number of conservatives—who are generally more aware of political matters—may be oblivious to conservative splinter factions like the Libertarian Party and the Constitution Party.

These parties generally only serve the function of foiling the supreme parties. Take, for example, when Green Party candidate Ralph Nader siphoned precious votes from Al Gore in the 2000 presidential election.

Freedom of choice is certainly a valuable, precious privilege—especially in the political realm—but the act is rendered passionless and suffocated by the “one or the other” decisions that Republicans and Democrats embody.

The survey data bellows a guttural scream, announcing America’s need for at least one other viable political party—and the Tea Party is not a political party—to engage, reflect and inspire nonvoters.

This party should espouse fundamental liberal values—if not for the reason of making voting a truly collective effort, then for the silly humanistic purpose of giving the ideologically disenfranchised an outlet through which they can be represented. The convoluted means of accomplishing this directive can only be tackled by the best political and economic minds—not amateurs like me.

But the point remains. The 2008 presidential election was hailed as a glorious day for American democracy—regardless of who won—because 56.8 percent of the voting-age population voted.

Though I voted for novelty then, I will remain a stubborn outlier to the Democratic Party so long as they and the system in general remain a farce.