The National Evil implores you: Do NOT vote for this vermin.
Huh boy. Here’s an article describing how your genes determine whether or not you’ll get off your ass and vote this fall. That’s right: you’re either going to vote or you’re not, and yep, it’s your parents’ fault—but not because of their own political activism/laziness, but because of the swirling clusterfuck of DNA that combined to make you, alas, you. To wit:
According to that analysis, 53 percent of the variation in voter turnout is due to differences in genes.
—Which only leaves 47 percent of the decision to the ancient idol the National Evil regularly consults on such matters! That’s gonna be hard to break to Otopaki the Monkey God.
This is getting depressing, isn’t it? As you know, the Evil is a fierce advocate of free will, at least insofar as it involves his freedom to inflict his will on the huddled masses. And the Evil is plumb tired of hearing about all the decisions his genes rob him of.
The research described in this article does overlook one crucial question, however: What do the genes have to say about the thousands of voters who, every four years, pencil in Mickey Mouse as a write-in candidate? The Mickster is the single most popular presidential write-in candidate, cycle after cycle. Even though the Mouse would make a terrible, just a terrible, Commander-in-Chief.
Think about it: over the course of an 80-year existence, what stance has Mickey Mouse taken that would inspire one to vote for him? Sure, Donald Duck is prone to temper tantrums—no one wants him near the button—and Goofy is hopped up on something we’d all like to try but don’t want our president snorting. At least they have personality, an identity beyond that of soulless corporate mascot and logo.
—But then, perhaps that corporate pliability makes Mickey the perfect candidate for a certain segment of the population: CEOs, corporate lawyers, marketers, ABC/Disney shareholders. They might account for the write-ins. Hmm . . .
All the Evil knows for sure is that he kneels before Otopaki every fourth November, makes his offerings of macadamia nuts and spiced rum and, as the Monkey God’s grim visage drifts in a peal of incense smoke, prays for guidance. The Evil expects nothing different this year; the Monkey God, and the Evil, will remain a Bugs Bunny man.
(NOTE: Endorsement of Bugs Bunny in no way implies endorsement of Time Warner, its policies, or affiliates.)