For about the last month or so, we’ve been wall-to-wall with flyers and commercials and ads and interviews and volunteers shoving pieces of paper in front of us at our El stops which are quickly balled up and thrown away. People have been shaking babies and kissing asses and – well, something like that. You know why?
Why, it’s finally that most exciting day of days in Illinois! No, not sentencing day for Disgraced Government Official Du Jour (although that is certainly a magical day as well). No, it’s Primary Election Day! When we get to decide what partisan hack will go on to fight off the other partisan hack as we figure out which sellout scumbag represents us in the hallowed halls of government.
It’s a glorious event, wherein we spent hours figuring out if we’re related to or could possibly ever be related to any of the candidates and then voting for them, and then voting for them again, and then loading up the buses to vote for them as well. Then we take our low paying ghost payroll position, cash the check, and then play illegal video slot machine games at the back of the local corner store. It’s the most wonderful time of the year.
Chicago is a place where everyone grows up to believe that we could possibly be a civil servant. In fact, in a town where just about every job counts on the city government in some way, shape or form, we are all collectively one big Voltron that forms a council board and a mayor instead of tigers turning into a big robot. I personally would prefer the tiger/robot version of city government, which will most likely end up as part of my platform.
What platform, you asky? Well, at some point in the future, I will completely exhaust any possible outlet for gainful private-sector employment. This is going to be a combination of the fact that I specialize only in dying industries, and I put everything else on a series of websites that basically disqualify me for everything, ever. It is at that point where I will turn to the government.
I don’t care if I end up being dogcatcher or alderman (and what’s the difference, really) or Senator or low-level staffer or anything along those lines. I just want to use the following campaign slogan, or see someone that I’m working for use it. Either or. Here it is:
“I’m not a scumbag.”
Not bad, huh? Really cuts to the heart of the argument. When you see the same old smiling, gladhanding faces on TV, what do you think to yourself? You think, “There’s no way I’ll ever vote for that scumbag.” So what would happen if the next spot you saw came right out and said, “I am not a scumbag.”
Or a variation on the theme. “Candidate Me: Totally Not a Scumbag.” “Candidate Me: Everyone Else is Filthier Than Him” and the like.
Actually, it’s not quite right. Something is needed to make it completely and totally honest:
“I’m not a scumbag. Yet.”
Perfect!
We all know that a few months days hours in Springfield makes every politician filthy as well as covered in a delicious cheese sauce. So I’ll get people in the door by acknowledging my lack of scumbag-status…and get the rest by coming clean with my full intention to end up as a complete scumbag. No one could ever accuse me of not being completely honest with the electorate. I can’t lose.
Well, I can lose. But I’d be losing to a lying candidate who wants you to believe that he’s honest, that he’s a stand-up kind of guy (or gal!) and that he’ll capably serve you in the government office to which you have sent him. And no one believes that, do they? We all want to, but I respect you enough to cut through the BS and really tell you what’s up.
I’m a nice guy now. But then I’ll spend 15 minutes with Mike Madigan and Pat Quinn and I’ll be morphed into a twisted smoldering wreck of a person I used to be. So why not cop to it in advance and at least do one honest thing during a run for a seat?
In conclusion, here is my first campaign ad. I just saved my donors like, thousands of dollars in not hiring writers and freelance producers and such. Fiscal responsibility!
Hi, I’m just a guy named Karl. You don’t know me now, but by the time I get done flyering your neighborhood, shaking all of your hands, kissing all of your children and sucking up to corporate donors, hopefully you’ll get to know me a little better.
For my entire life, I’ve lived in Illinois. This means that I know just as much as you about what goes on in Springfield. Chances are very good that that means “next to nothing” and you could barely name our governor, anything about the county board, and this commercial is on in the background while you’re in the bathroom during Wheel of Fortune.
Which is fine! I’m just here to tell you that I’m running for anything involved in state government, which is cool because I’m not a scumbag. Everyone else involved in state politics? Totally filthy. Except me. Because I’m not there yet. But with your help, I will be.
I can hear you asking already, “But Karl! Won’t you just get filthy when you go to serve our interests in political office?” And I’m here to tell you: You’re absolutely goddamn right. I’m going to turn into the same kind of whore everyone else has! But here’s the difference – I’m not going to lie to your face and pretend I won’t.
So when you go to the voting booth, don’t cast your vote for some jerk that doesn’t even have enough respect for you to tell you the truth about their intentions. I might do something good when I get in office. But chances are more likely that I’ll pad my pockets, employ my friends and squander your hard earned money.
I’ll try not to, but I can’t make any promises. This makes me the most honest politician you’ve ever met. So vote for Karl. I’m not a scumbag. Not yet.
I’ll see you on the campaign trail!