A part of me wants the election to be over with – “Cut, that’s a wrap; send it to the distributors.”
With provisional ballots, voter fraud and any number of headaches still in the mix, today will be more entertaining than any summer shoot-’em-up could ever be.
My prediction for the election is that there will be no president – in fact, all society will collapse after Ohio breaks free of its land-locked-dom and sinks into Lake Erie to hang out with Atlantis.
The movie rights will promptly be sold and America will have the next great epic, entitled “Election Fever.” Of course there will be car chases and the three presidential debates will be turned into a wrestling match Hulk Hogan would envy. It will be entertaining, and that is what this election is – entertainment.
In real life imagine Brutus Buckeye dueling to the death with the rapping transient on 13th Avenue. No, help is not on the way and neither is a president – this is our fate today. Death to Republicans, death to Democrats; long live third-party candidates.
If you want to avert the apocalypse and star in your very own political commercial, vote. Put the column down, stand up and tell your teacher you have to go the bathroom and sprint faster than Santonio Holmes to your nearest voting precinct then ask if you’re registered there, because chances are you’ll have to run somewhere else.
In fact, if you don’t vote I will come to your house, kick your dog and make out with your mother. The sky will fall like your grades after a drinking binge – that’s how important this is.
Are you going to vote for Bush? I don’t care. How about Kerry? Yeah, Kerry who? Even if you have to throw away your dignity and vote for Lyndon LaRouche, I’d say you’re a nutbag – but a brave nutbag.
VoteMob and ACORN had the right idea – mobilize college students and politicize the community. If ever there was a time for college students to do more than worry about what grade they got on a midterm or what bar they’re going to drink at tonight, this would be it.
This election is the equivalent of the OSU vs. Michigan game on steroids. There will be drama, yelling and at least one fistfight over social security. This is how the masses want it. This is how the history books will remember it and this is how I want my children to remember it.
If I was a betting man, which I am, I would wager our generation will go down in history as a generation that voted.
Generation X had its shining moment when it went into the work force and proved it had more than just teen spirit, but what about Generation Y? Fifty years from now people will look back and say someone lit a fire under our butts.
If at least 60 percent of the nation votes, I will walk through Mirror Lake and shave the percentage into my hair.
Sixty will become the official number I cheer for on every sports team, and I will shake each person’s hand no matter who they voted for.
By the time you’ve read this far in the column, you could have voted a straight party ticket and bought a pack of gum before praying to your god that there will be a tidal wave of voters sparring “American Gladiator”,style for their only chance to punch a candidate – or at least punch a candidate’s name into a computer or voting ballot.
The only thing I ask is that when you see me on campus tomorrow with “60 percent” shaved into my hair, stop me and make sure I voted. If I say I haven’t, you have my permission to make out with my mom, but no one kicks my dog.
David Cross is not as funny as the comedian sharing his name, but he still likes to try. He is a senior in journalism and can be reached at [email protected].
