This year’s WSA elections lacked the most critical component of modern politics: douchebaggery. Sure, there were plenty of candidates who had their parents print out and ship business cards for them to hand out as they went door-to-door canvassing for votes. But business cards don’t win elections, the spirit to rip out your opponent’s heart and cram it down hir gender-neutral throat wins elections.
Where were the attack ads filled with baseless accusations of bestiality? Why didn’t anyone bother taking advantage of the campus’s radio station to deliver bile-spewing tirades? If these students are going to be the next generation of leaders, they need to show that they’re willing to act like adults by engaging in petty politics, the foundation of our great nation.
The most disappointing thing about this entire election? Not one scandal. No one mentioned that a particular rival regularly attempts to fuck everything that moves in the library, and some things that don’t. “So?” you might say. “I do that, and I’m the one making the accusation.” I can only shake my head in dismay. Nobody cares what actually happened.
“But Sam,” you whine on, “I only have a week to make my case, and in between classes and trying to bone anything with a pulse, I just don’t have time to dig up dirt.” Well, in that case you gotta just roll up your sleeves and set to work on one of the oldest and most hallowed political traditions: making shit up. I’m confident even groggy, drug-addled post-adolescents like yourselves can pull it off. Chop chop, Wesleyan!