“No thank you, Delmar. A third of a gopher would only arouse my appetite without beddin’ ‘er back down.” – O Brother, Where Art Thou?
How many Russians does it take for Hillary Clinton to lose an election? None.
Front Matter: I will start liveblogging (in the comments of this post) the election results when they come in. I expect this will be about 8pm Eastern Standard Time. I’ll stop when the mood strikes me – there isn’t a set end time. I will say this – Standard Time Rules, and I really, really hate Daylight Savings Time.
2020 marks the most momentous election of our lifetimes. Why?
Trump 2020?
No.
Wilder 2020. Yes, I am an official candidate. I can explain.
I’m a skilled professional.
During the state primary season in Modern Mayberry, in Upper-Lower Midwestia, I got a text message from The Boy.
“I put you in as a write-in candidate for NAMELESS OFFICE.”
Immediately I texted The Mrs. “Hey, honey, please vote for me for NAMELESS OFFICE.” She didn’t respond. That’s normal.
I made my own way to the polls, and proudly wrote “John Wilder” in for NAMELESS OFFICE. It turns out that The Mrs. did, too.
I had three votes.
What does one do with three votes in an insurgent write-in candidacy for NAMELESS OFFICE? You call the County Clerk the day after to see if you won.
I did that.
“A write in? Umm, call us next week, sweetie.”
I forgot to call them back. But then a few weeks later when The Boy was down from State College, he got the mail one Saturday, and brought it into the living room.
I sent a guitar back to the factory once. I marked it “return to Fender®.”
“Hey, Pop, it’s a letter from the County. Are you still burning tires and diesel fuel in the backyard?” The Boy handed me a big letter – one that might have held the x-ray of bigfoot’s prostate exam.
I opened it. Nope – not a prostate exam. It was an official certificate saying that I was an official candidate for election in the 2020 election. How many of those do you have?
I am running unopposed in the general election. Since I was running unopposed, I decided on a sneaky campaign: not let anyone know I was running. The idea I had was simple – if anyone knew I was running, they would have time to oppose me. Ha! I’m too sneaky for that.
But now it’s too late. There will be one name to vote for: mine. I think my chances are good, since I’m sure I’ll get more than the three votes that propelled me on this political odyssey. I’m hoping for at least a solid dozen votes.
If your refrigerator is running? I know some people in New Mexico that would vote for it.
You may ask, what does the elected office require me to do? I won’t give you most of the specifics. But I did check online and researched the state statutes that describe what I’m being elected to do. In one, very old book (1883?) I found that I was responsible for the control of underground burrowing rodents. In none of the modern laws does it mention that I’m responsible for that, but, hey:
The law is the law.
I think I’ll make that the signature of my administration. I’ll become John Wilder, licensed to kill gophers by the government of the United Nations. A man, free to kill gophers at will. To kill, you must know your enemy, and in this case my enemy is a varmint. And a varmint will never quit.
Ever.
If A is for Apple, and B is for Banana, what is C for? Explosives.
I’m pretty sure that this will entitle me to a badge and unlimited access to fully automatic weapons, rocket propelled grenades, and plastic explosives. Okay, maybe not. But I’m also sure that there are absolutely zero laws in my state that prohibit me from making my own badge. I think I might design my badge to be a big “W” with lightning bolts hitting an underground rodent.
Maybe it will all be over the top of a nuclear mushroom cloud?
Does my badge allow me to do anything special, like turn into a werewolf and roam the countryside naked in the cool autumn nights looking for a safe spaceship flight. Well, no. But thankfully it doesn’t prohibit that, either.
Does my badge allow me to requisition nuclear weapons from the Federal government to control subterranean rodents? Well, no. But it does make the requisition request for fully automatic weapons, an old M-60 Patton tank, three F-16 fighters and 53,000 pounds of Compound C seem reasonable.
I mean, how else would you deal with gophers? You wouldn’t. That’s why you need a cold-blooded rodent killer like me. Badgers? You don’t need no stinking badgers!
My son said he got awarded the Leslie Neilson badge at school. I asked him, “What’s that?” He said it’s a big building filled with kids.
Here’s my campaign slogan:
“Wilder 2020, because you want John Wilder to have access to a badge and enough weapons to overthrow Brazil, even though he only got three primary votes.”
See you in the comments tonight!