Editor’s Note: This is Satire, even though it seems painfully real.
It’s that time of the year again! That’s right, dear reader—time to vote for someone you’ve only seen one GroupMe text about, and then never hear from again! Isn’t it exhilarating? Representative democracy! Power of the people! Accountable leadership! Other buzzwords that government majors use when they didn’t do the CPS reading the night before! Just think—your voice will determine who gets to sit on a council of your peers, censuring people with problematic opinions and… yeah that’s about it! The Board of Directors can ignore the rest.
* * *
No, you can’t vote for them, silly billy! That’s not something you can do.
* * *
Why? Well, because… reasons.
But still, cool! Right?
Either way, did you know that you yourself can act as the representative for your student body? I know!! Sounds like fun! The question is, how do you begin such an endeavor?
Not to worry! As I am apt to do, I have prepared a convenient set of instructions to follow to get you started on your campaign process, as well as your first days as a full GUSA delegate!
Step #1: Your Campaign Poster
Prepare a campaign poster. Include your name, year, and school. Don’t include any imagery besides your own face, except maybe a cherry blossom tree, to show that you are, in fact, attending a D.C.-based university. Next, add your zodiac sign (the more the better!), and check your daily horoscope for good measure. Look! Pisces is ascending into Uranus! Doesn’t that just scream competency for elected office? Finally, smash your hand into your keyboard. Go ahead, try it! See how there’s a random string of letters and numbers? That’s now an acronym. What does it stand for? Hell if I know. Regardless, if people ask what it means, call them a bigot for not knowing, and then refuse to explain why, since they already should be educated on such an important topic and be supportive of your plight, the dirty fascists.
Don’t add anything more—it’s already perfect, and anything beyond this can be extraordinarily dangerous. How, you may ask? See below. Also, keep it entirely digital—wasting paper accelerates deforestation. Would you strangle a baby sloth with your bare hands? No? Then do it digitally, you psycho.
Step #2: Your Platform
You have no platform. Keep it that way. You have no beliefs or opinions about anything, and you have never had any beliefs or opinions about anything, either. Delete all social media. All of it. Remember that time you said maybe capitalism isn’t such a bad thing? For that, you are now morally responsible for all the sweatshops in East Asia. You monster. You disgust me. Get rid of it, get rid of it all! Without opinions, there’s nothing to oppose. Checkmate, atheists.
Step #3: Your Outreach
Announce your candidacy, and then promptly retreat into a soundproof location (please, please don’t make it a bunker, for the love of God, that’s a really really poor choice of location). Don’t check any chats or social media outlets—simply wait. If you’re lucky, they’ve drawn and quartered the other candidates, and you’re the last one standing. With no opposition, you cannot possibly lose the election. Congratulations!
Step #4: Your Tenure
Slap the title of GUSA Representative into your resume. Looks nice, doesn’t it? You must be very proud. You’re really going to make a difference!
Now, promptly go into hiding. Attend all the meetings, but don’t say anything, ever. You don’t exist. You never existed. You can do no wrong if you never do anything, right? They can’t argue with that. But be careful. They are watching. They are always watching. Watching and waiting for the right moment. Tread lightly. They sense m o v e m e n t.
M a k e
n o
s u d d e n
m o v e m e n t s . . .
OH GOD, THEY SAW YOU! RUN!! RUN, YOU POOR BASTARD!! RUN RUN RUN THEY’RE COMING FOR YOU OH GOD OH NO OH NO RUN RUN RU—*
* * *
Step #5: Your Summary Execution
It was fun while it lasted, though, right?
