Monday, October 25, 2010

The Contrarian Voter

The truth is clear: If you want me to vote for the other guy, smear him with an attack ad.

And you know what, unless the other guy you’re attacking is a baby-eating acolyte of Adolph Hitler, he’s probably going to get my vote by virtue of your attack ad alone.

But that’s just me. I’m a contrarian voter. Tell me to vote one way and I’m going to find out why you’re telling me that and likely vote for the other guy. Unless the other guy is telling me not to vote for the first guy. Then I’ll really have to figure things out.

I don’t know why I’m like this. Perhaps because, in politics, I think if they only thing you can say about your candidate is that he’s not the other guy, then maybe your guy isn’t all that great.

Do you hear that, Frank Vandersloot?

(On that note: If I could have gotten out of taking the math portion of the GRE a few years ago and still have gotten into my masters program, I would have done it in a picosecond, because, like Stan Olson, I don’t like math. That doesn’t mean I don’t do math at work, nor that Stan Olson wouldn’t work had at the math he’d have to do as supernintendo of public schools in Idaho.)

These are my rules if you want me to vote for you:

Don’t attack anybody. If your opponent has done something despicable enough, I won’t vote for him or her. And if the attack is just a battle of opinions, well then, tell me your opinion, rather than launching an attack.

Knock on my door and tell me, in person, why you want my vote. Nine times out of ten, you’ll get it because you came personally and told me you want it. Obviously, that works better for local candidates, but that’s not to say those seeking higher office shouldn’t try.

Don’t robocall me. Ever. Especially to invite me to a “telephone town hall.” Come to our local town hall, and I might come listen to you.

Pay front groups or not disencourage front groups from robocalling me on your behalf, or call me on a vote-gathering scheme disguised as a public opinion poll.

In fact, don’t call me at all. Hell, I buy tamales from the lady who brings them to the door. If she called first, I’d probably say no.

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