Us profoundly stupid people who failed upwards have finally found some semblance of power and boy am I gonna let it go to my head
I don’t know if you’ve heard but there’s an election in 2020
Now, I live in California, which means, effectively, I’m either voting democrat in 2020 or I functionally don’t vote, which is different from 2016, when I lived in Kansas, and I had the choice of either voting Republican or functionally not voting, which is the marker of an effective system worth upholding and participating in. Anyway, I’m real, is the point. I’m a real sort of guy who exists. You better believe I’m voting in 2020, and you also better believe that need to earn my vote for your party, for some reason.
Over the next few months you’ll start to see more and more Op-Eds from every self-important dolt who got a job in writing because they went to one of those New England schools where they dump rich kids for four years like some sort of Keystone Light-scented daycare. They’ve had books published with titles like Plight of the Bleeding Heart Blue Dog: How to Stop College Campus Hysteria and Barbecue, Bud, and Balanced Budgets: What’s Worth Defending. They wrote pseudo-poignant columns after John McCain died and they dislike Donald Trump, not because they disagree with him on whether or not brown kids should be put in camps, but because he doesn’t tick the like six or seven etiquette boxes they think a conservative politician should.
The columns will be titled like “Why You Can’t Lose the Never-Trumper” or “Dems Can’t Go Too Far Left, Lest They Alienate Me, the Never-Trump Republican” or “Bernie’s Too Far Left For Me, the Never-Trumplican” or “I Want Amy Klobuchar To Smother Me With Her Bare Feet” or something like that. They’ll be in the New York Times Op-Eds or Politico or wherever. All of these will suck. In reality they will reflect the mewling of a few writers watching a façade of importance they’d figured they had crumble. Op-Eds are the language of those just learning of their unimportance.
I’ve been well-aware of my unimportance basically ever since an usher forgot who I was five minutes after I left my section at a Sporting Kansas City match in 2011 and then tried to have me eat a plate of nachos alone just outside of the gate because I didn’t have my ticket on me. Eventually the image of me pathetically scooping chips and orange faux-cheese into my mouth softened them. But if I can even grasp at the idea that important political decisions are made at my behest, I’m gonna grasp.
And, democrats? You need me. You need my stupid ass, who eats off-brand Nutella out of the jar while sitting next to the trash can so that I can easily dispose of the jar when I’m finished with the Nutella, to vote for you in 2020. I could never vote for Donald Trump. I just hope the democrats will give me and all the other disgusting imbeciles a candidate worth voting for.
But then again I will likely not be voting. I simply do not know how to go to the polls and I will be damned if I ever try to figure it out. But in the unlikely case that I ever do figure out how to register, then how to get to the polls, then how to vote, and I also stop trying to get all the skulls on Halo 3 for long enough on election day to get to the polls, I will need a democratic candidate to vote for. One who represents my interests, the interests of a disgusting recluse imbecile who routinely enjoys a delicacy he calls “Tapioca Plus”, made by combining one little cup of Jell-O Tapioca pudding with one little cup of Snack Pack chocolate pudding . One who doesn’t demonize a man who’s only listened to side B of “The Prodigy Experience” ever since the cassette got jammed in his shitty Coby boombox back in 2001 and he’s never felt financially comfortable enough to justify buying either another boombox or another album.
If you’re gonna push a candidate on things like “student loan cancellation” and “single-payer healthcare” instead of the things I care about like “Getting the Pizza Hut in Poway, California to unban Joe Bush” or “a Truck Nutz Replacement Fund for when one or both of your Truck Nutz falls off” or “Making Speedruns of Coded Arms for the PSP a commodity off of which one can make a living”, then, I’m sorry. You’re not getting my vote.
Because… God damn it, I need somebody to act like my very specific set of idiosyncrasies probably shared by other people is valuable to them. I need at least one candidate to come out and say they care for me and people like me. I need a candidate who’s going to see the golf clubs I brought at a Goodwill for three dollars each which I keep in the trunk of my 2014 Elantra in case I ever feel like going to a driving range, and people like me who do similar things, and say You are my voter base. I want you. Whichever candidate says that will earn my vote. Until then, you’re on watch, Dems.
honestly Marianne Williamson’s probably written that in one of her books at some point. I can be found in other shameful corners like Facebook, Twitter, and Ko-Fi. Thanks. Also sorry about writing about politics for two posts in a row. I’m gonna write about like a PS2 game or something next.