For People Who Can't Learn To Stop Kicking Fresh Turds

Never kick a fresh turd on a hot day. - cowboy wisdom

And if your shoe has fresh turd all over it, I'm looking at you.

I) This requires the assent of the Dem-supermajority CA legislature, plus the approval of Congress. Which has about as much likelihood of ever passing either body as science has of breeding a flying pig, with wings and feathers. That alone should have stopped you, but since we've started the fisking, we'll keep piling on.
None of this will ever happen.

II) Without CA's monstrously winner-take-all electoral count, Obozo was the last Democrat to visit the inside of the Oval Office as anything but a visitor, for...ever. And every Leftard in Sacramento and DC knows this. And have since 1992. So no one's going to vote for breaking up this 55-piece electoral rock band. The only people clamoring for anything like that should be the other 49 states voting for CA not to split up, but to fully secede.
We've covered that pigs-flying scenario too, before now.
None of this will ever happen.

III) Not a single one of 49 other states would vote to give CA 3X the number of Senators. If they did, Texas would split 37 ways, and Rhode Island and Connecticut would vote to split into individual counties as new states. And everyone can see that elephant coming clear to the horizon, on plains as flat as Kansas. It's never going to even get started. The Seventeenth Amendment should have been ruled an unconstitutional Progressive fapfest, that would undo the precise governmental balance set in place 126 years earlier, exactly as it's done, and with its Progtard ugly stepsisters, the XVIth and XIXth Amendments, should have been repealed as heartily as was the Eighteenth, but faster. Sadly, no such perspicacity has yet dawned in most of the American consciousness. But even people who applauded those monstrosities won't miss the problems with this scheme.
None of this will ever happen.

IV) If someohow, via magic and unicorns farting pixie dust, this ever did happen, all it would do is hasten the coming civil war, harder and faster than what will otherwise transpire. "Norcal" would be San Fransh*tco and Marin Moron County neck-chained to the interior parts, which are all redder than a sunburnt pig. The disenfranchised folks up there will be clamoring for a further dissolution, and vote with rifles as quick as ballots if it isn't forthcoming.
People hereabouts haven't spent the last twenty years laying in millions of banned/unbanned/maybe-gonna-get-banned mil-style pseudo-"assault" weapons just for target practice.
None of this will ever happen.

V) Annoying as naked reality may be for some people, this measure splits nothing and no one. It is, in actual fact, just an agreement to talk about talking about maybe, someday, possibly, perhaps, thinking about possibly sort of pondering whether to eventually split the state up. In the future. At some mythical date TBD. It mainly just achieves a list of make-work appointments for cronies on the taxpayers' nickel, providing another barrel of pork sinecures like Moonbeam's famed "high-speed rail" Great Leap Back To The 19th Century boondoggle, that's also never going to happen. Every second people spend talking about or looking at this nonsense distracts them from what's really going on here, with actual consequences. That makes those people the titular characters in the eponymous Rope-A-Dope Strategy. 
None of this will ever happen.

VI) In the real world, CA is set, at current course and speed, to go utterly bankrupt from pension shortfalls in about a decade, leading to a glorious 1989-Soviet-Union self-immolation, of biblical proportions. Start thinking about what happens after that.
We've covered that before, too:

G) Bridge Out

Califrutopia, like most of the country, is headed for a fiscal cliff.
Chicongo just started laying off actual workers, to use the money to pay the exorbitant recockulous pensions of retired state workers.
That means they can't pay actual cops and firemen, because they're too busy funding the retired ones.
This induces productive citizens, and businesses, to flee a city and state that can't catch the crooks, nor put out the fires.
Which accelerates the financial collapse of such agencies and jurisdictions even faster.
(Don't get smart-ass; 50:1 your state or city is in the same boat, to a greater or lesser degree. Pay attention to this.)
California is in the same boat.
And when they get to the IOU stage for retirees, the ones who moved to your low-tax retirement haven will now be on your welfare dole.

But either way, cities and states will go bankrupt, even if they briefly try confiscatory tax policies.

(Refresher lesson: what two things started the Revolutionary War?
a) Taxes
b) Weapons seizures
c) Both of the above
Now, tell me which of those are a problem in CA. Or Chicongo. Ad infinitum.)

What cannot continue, won't.
They can end the welfare state, including ridiculous state pensions and EBT card largesse, or they can totally collapse. There is no third option.

So, point to ponder:
What happens when retirees, including cops and firemen, aren't getting pensions, they can't pay for the current ones to catch crooks and put out fires, and they stop paying protection money to the Diversity here, or anywhere, because they simply cannot come up with it?

Here's my guess. I've only seen it firsthand twice in my lifetime, right in Los Angeles.

So, you're going to do - and should do - What, exactly, about that?

And as we've also covered, all those retiree tax refugees from IL, CA, and elsewhere, who've retired to your low-tax haven will now be penniless, on your doorstep, and thus your new problem, and with only about 30-something other states facing a similar pension disasterpiece theater in the not-so-distant future. Socialism, like VD, is the gift that keeps on giving, and burns all the time. Enjoy!

Rethink your premises, and start pondering likely to certain realities, instead of unlikely fantasies.
The only thing MORE certain than Death and Taxes will be the Death OF Taxes, when socialism here - and everywhere else - reaches its inevitable end state.

VII) I realize this shiny mylar icicle-wrapped meadow muffin is as irresistible as catnip to some few of those jealous of year-around 70-degree weather and 30-percent humidity when they're busy in Some Other State either sweating their wedding tackle off, or neck deep shoveling some quaint winter atmosphere at 0° F., most of the year anywhere else. I know it's fun for them to mock what their carpetbagging ne'er-do-well village idiot cousins, their toothless banjo-playing kinfolk, and those millions of illegal aliens their retarded feckless senators and congressmen can't seem to notice (until they're slapped in the face with them because Greater Aztlan Assland now extends to North Dakota, Maine, and New Hamster) they've exported here since at least the 1930s have gotten up to in the Golden State, given the laissez-faire attitude and general goodwill of the natives hereabouts. (As a funnier joke, notice that we send them right back to Washington DC, and let them pay you all back in spades. Hilarious, no?) But if that stinky shoe fits, perhaps be less enviously retarded for a moment, and recognize that as much fun as you have fiddling with this particular patty in the meadow, at the end of the day, you're the one whose carpet is soiled, whose house will stink, and no one else is going to clean the residue of your momentary delight off the end of your own shoe. You'll be doing that yourself.

Other than certain turd-world sh*thole/Democrat-rich bastions mainly east of the Mississippi -NYFC, Chicongo, Detroitistan, Baltimorons, and the District Of Corruption - I hold no particular malice to any other city or state per se, nor to its native peoples. (Ignorant immigrants coming here from Trashcanistan and Shitholia who came here to replicate Trashcanistan and Shitholia, while holding out their hand for their share of the welfare state's gibsmedat teat-salary to the Free Shit Army, get out before you hear the incoming gunfire. Please.) I've seen a good bit of this country, and the people too, and most are both beautiful, and examples to write home about. Or, horrible, evil, thieving scumbags. Like all things, you judge by the individual, not the time zone, zip code, or skin color, but by the individual example.

So to the individuals, consider:
If this measure passes, it means nothing.
If it fails to pass, it means nothing.
See if you can cleverly parse out what that portends for further discussion, since before it ever qualified for the ballot here.

And please, stop whacking this dead horse, leave the turd in the meadow alone, and let this happy horsesh*t die quietly, and undisturbed.

The only people happy about that attention to a meaningless issue aren't your friends, unless they're selling Lysol spray, shoe shine brushes, and polish.