Politically Political Politics

The election season is over, so it’s time to turn the cell phone back on. Being a resident of two, count ‘em, two American states, I have received double the amount of phone calls and mail this time around. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had Mrs. Sally Spunkpit leave me message assuring me of her vaguely different positions on the issues, clearly discerning her from the cold-hearted incumbent Holly Hooha. It’s amazing the trust instilled in these representatives after decades of such strong words turning into sniveling interest group fundraisers.

So after all of these long drawn out disappointments, calling for change and ending up with a well-paid parrot as your political representative, it would seem appropriate then to tell you all about something you already thought about, but probably haven’t acted on. This wonderful new formula to voting that could set you free from a decision that ultimately won’t make an iota of difference. In the months preceding any major election (because honestly who cares about who’s controlling what actually touches our meager sphere of influence, fuck those elections), it is time to collect all of the unwanted correspondence you have received from all parties planning to be on the ballot. For each elected position, the one you receive the least amount of annoying mail and voicemail messages from, is the one you will vote for. This will include signs and screaming assholes outside of the booths.

There is a simple logic behind this. I’ll spare you the black and white explanation and tell you about a special person who made me smile this election season. This person is Linda McMahon. I don’t keep up with professional wrestling because, well, I get laid on a regular basis, but Mrs. McMahon is former President and CEO of WWE wrestling (a position reportedly made as a legal move to allow Mr. McMahon and a corrupt doctor deal with legal penalties for distributing steroids to wrestlers; A rumor I’ve heard directly from the mouths of some of their former employees). Not only was she an exceptional leader for her company, she successfully marketed her television show to a key demographic, children. Moving their rating from a TV-14 to TV-PG, effectively making it safe for our children to watch oiled, sweaty men rub on each other in spandex and keep the feminist flag flying by watching scantily clad models pull each other’s hair and perform gravity-defying stunts of keeping their enormous fake breasts inside of their tiny tops (I feel like I made a concrete argument for extremist conservatives and religious leaders to fight peddling of homosexuality to minors in there, but I’m wouldn’t want to read into things). This same woman, boasting a Bachelor of Arts degree in French, was a candidate for Senate in Connecticut this election. Very obviously, such vast knowledge of the wrestling business, marketing and a language that is rarely spoken the states (never forget freedom fries), makes her a qualified candidate for a seat on the Senate. Mrs. McMahon reportedly spent over 40 million dollars of her own money on her campaign resulting in a decisive loss. This last sentence is one of the few I’ve written that may give you a shred of hope for humanity and it’s rare, because the assholes who can afford the extravagant campaigns and cutthroat PR personnel are the ones who usually end up on top.

There is a point to this random mess of a political commentary. The more ignorant and apathetic this country gets makes it so simple for these entertainment tycoons, trust fund babies and rich Hollywood assholes to become serious contenders in the political arena. This amount of spending is not absurd comparatively and has good reason: most of us don’t pay nearly enough attention to the decision making that is done for us on a regular basis and sometimes not even representative of popular vote (and if when you read this: “Electoral College”, and have to Google it to grasp what I’m saying, go ahead and stick yourself with something sharp you twat).

You get your ass on TV, have a few cute jabs at your opponent and shoot a gun at proposed bills you don’t approve of while wearing the blue collar flag: fatigues. Hell, drink a beer or two so they say, “That guys just like us…” At least that’s what they do here in WV. The more you do that, the more you get your face and voice in eyes, ears and brains of the people, and goddamnit sometimes that is enough. Furthermore, I know a great number of you reading this voted for a candidate because they had a party listed beside their name. If that makes you feel the least bit guilty, and it should, I can help you. Leave your address in the comments and I’ll come to your home and beat you senseless with a rotten catfish.

Our country is full of apathetic wieners who think a blog post and a status update effectively control the ebb and flow of the universe. You know how I’m absolutely positive of this? Because I didn’t know a single thing about Linda McMahon or really any political figure until I Googled it and just became a political pundit full of knowledge about the political issues. So naturally I made a post about how smart I am and how everybody else is drooling on themselves. Here I come, talk radio.

These issues and candidate are things that I don’t even give a fuck about because I didn’t go vote anyway. You know what I did on Election Day? I drank beer excessively, painted an American flag on my chest, hit on passersby (male or female) and quite possibly flashed my penis until I passed out in a creek bed and eventually was arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct. This is because I’m a real American, a fucking patriot. So if you made it this far I hope you learned you should have never wasted your time considering my political view, pricks.