Mike's Election Guide (6 page)

Rob Thomlinson

Elkhart, IN

ANSWER:
The electoral college is not an institution of higher learning but rather a brilliant attempt by the Founding Fathers to build in one last layer of “protection”—just in case “the people” choose the wrong president.

Each state is assigned a certain number of electors. That number is the total sum of each state’s members of Congress. Which means that the smaller states have an unequal advantage as they each have two senators, regardless of their population. This was one of many steps that the authors of the Constitution took to make sure the itsy-bitsy states got to have
more
say as to who the president should be. And really, isn’t that the right thing to do, to give more power to lovely little places like Delaware?

In all but two states (Nebraska and Maine) it’s a winner-take-all affair, meaning that the delegates to the electoral college are not proportional to the actual number of popular votes each candidate receives. So if Candidate “A” in Indiana got 5 million votes but Candidate “B” got 5 million and one votes, Candidate “B” gets 100 percent of that state’s delegates—and Candidate “A” receives nothing.

And why should he? He
lost
, and this is America. It’s written in the Constitution that we don’t like losers. I think.

Denying representation to 49.9 percent of the public, though, was still not enough protection for the Founders. They built in one more genius safeguard. Let’s say in Indiana they have 11 delegates assigned to the electoral college. Candidate “B” wins by one popular vote, so he gets all 11 delegates. Well, who picks the 11 delegates? The state political parties do! But that’s not the best part. Any one of the 11 delegates has the legal right to vote for whomever he or she wants at the electoral college! Because maybe the people of Indiana just didn’t know what they were doing and voted for the wrong candidate. Perhaps they didn’t realize that the country would be much better off with Candidate “A.” Eleven appointed political glad-handers are there to save the people from themselves.

And after all, who would know better about what’s best for “the people” than some nameless, faceless schmuck of a political hack eating greasy pizza in the electoral college meeting room at the Holiday Inn off Exit 17 on the Indiana Turnpike?

Why do Iowa and New Hampshire go first? I don’t know anyone from there.

Bill S. Nelson

Louisville, KY

ANSWER:
That’s because no one lives there. On the evening of December 10, 1957, unidentified flying objects were spotted hovering over both states. It is believed that the residents of Iowa and New Hampshire were abducted and replaced with seemingly harmless, but white, people. Their only supernatural power seemed to be their uncanny ability to know who, exactly, should be president of the United States. The rest of America suspected that these were not mere mortals, but said nothing because of the fine job the Iowans and New Hampshirites did selecting presidents.

True, some folks questioned the wisdom of all this. But those who dared to defy the power of these aliens, most notably the states of Michigan and Florida in 2008, were met with swift and painful repercussions. These two states attempted to hold their primaries before New Hampshire and Iowa had theirs. As a result, each Michigander and Floridian was turned into half a human for the balance of the election year.

It seems like anyone can run for office. Is that a good idea?

Sahri Gupta

Dearborn, MI

ANSWER:
No. But there’s nothing we can do about it. Other than quit voting for the wrong ones. The funny thing is, you can never find a politician who will admit he’s the wrong one. Or a voter who will admit that he or she blew it. Try to find someone to say they voted for Bush or Nixon. Crickets. But
somebody
voted for these guys—
twice.

So how do we stop the wrong people from running for office? I’ll tell you how. Remember those weaselly weird kids who always ran for class president or student council? They should have been stopped right then and there. Because they grow up to be the awful politicians we can’t stand. It was our responsibility back in junior high to smack the devil out of them and give them a good swirly—but we didn’t.

Had we, they might have given up their political aspirations right then and there and, later in life, simply got a job in HR.

How did voting start? Who cast the first ballot?

Richie Bouton

Uniontown, PA

ANSWER:
Voting began nearly 2,500 years ago in the first democracy, what we call “Greece.” Actually, Greece back then was 1,500 city-states along the Mediterranean and Black seas. From what we know of them they liked sports, ate a low-carb Mediterranean diet, and bathed with each other. They wrote the first plays, invented the art of philosophy and, if they were having a bad day, they killed themselves. Antidepressants hadn’t yet been invented.

The oldest and most stable of these city-states was Athens. The Athenians did not want to waste their time with “representative” democracy, which required electing other people to, um, represent them. They believed in
direct
democracy, a crazy-cool way to give everybody a say and make sure that everyone is treated equal.

Well, not exactly “equal” in old Athens. Only men over the age of 18 could vote. Slaves and women were apparently given other chores.

But for those guys in their tunics, here’s how it worked:

The public directly voted on all laws and policies instead of electing politicians to make laws. The Greeks figured, “Why do we need the middlemen? We don’t need professional politicians to make our decisions for us.”

This concept was so radical that the word “democracy,” after the Greeks were conquered by the Romans, became the dirtiest word in politics for the next couple thousand years (until the word “liberal” was invented).

But for the Greeks it worked. This is not to say the Greeks didn’t have public officials. They did. But they were chosen “by lot,” or at random. Anyone who wanted to be in charge of the Parthenon or director of public baths just put his name in a hat and then names were drawn. The Athenians thought this was the fairest way to do it, because it gave every candidate, whether rich or poor, famous or unknown, an equal chance of holding office.

This wasn’t always the most efficient way to do things. Often they would pull a name out of the hat and it would be a Harriet Miers or a Heckuvajob Brownie.

When it did come time to pass laws, thousands would show up. Anyone could speak. As they didn’t have to rush home to watch
CSI: Sparta,
they had lots of time to debate the issues. Each side had their best orators who would give their positions, and then after everyone had a chance to speak, they would vote and that would be that.

It is commonly believed that the first Greek to cast a vote was a man by the name of Chadean Anastasias Gianopolis, around the year 482 B.C. He was so eager to be the first to vote that, when he thrust his arm forward to vote “aye,” he lunged so hard he fell over the railing. His long white robe caught on the rail and wrapped itself around his neck, leaving him hanging over the edge and instantly choking him to death. This is believed to be the origin of the term “a hanging chad.”

Excuse me, but was that the first pun you’ve ever written?

Si Green

Berkeley, CA

ANSWER:
Yes. I’m not quite sure what came over me. I have never trafficked in puns and I detest all who do. Them and those who unnecessarily alliterate. It won’t happen again.

Why should I vote? It only encourages them.

Red Malokowski

Red Hook, Brooklyn

ANSWER:
This is true. The more you show up to vote for politicians, the more they think you like what they do. Of course, if you didn’t vote, then the only ones who would show up at the polls would be the politicians voting for themselves. Which means they would always win. So not voting isn’t a solution.

But where does voting get us? In most elections, 97 percent of the members of the House of Representatives who run for re-election are returned to Washington. That is a higher return rate than the old Soviet Politburo had, where only 91 percent of its comrades were returned after each election. What does it say about our country when politicians behind the Iron Curtain had a better chance of being removed from office than they do here in the Land of the Free?

If voting doesn’t really change anything, then isn’t it a little bit like recycling your plastic soda bottles? It makes you feel like you’re doing something important and necessary, but in the long haul it isn’t really dealing with the root of the problem. The questions we should be posing are, “Why are we using petrochemicals to make soda bottles? And why are we drinking soda in the first place?”

Likewise, if 97 percent of Congress that runs every two years gets re-elected, what kind of message is that? “Good job, boys! More war! More poor! We don’t need health insurance!I want to pay
more
for gasoline!” That’s what we say when we line up like lemmings at the polls and convince ourselves we’re doing our patriotic duty by voting for the same old boys’ network.