I’m Ready To Tell The Truth About The Demented Things I Did To Decide Who To Vote For

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents that are used in conjunction with the author’s imagination are used fictitiously.


I am sick and fucking tired of this political clusterfuck spewed out all over my front page.

I mean the front page of EVERYTHING – Reddit, Facebook, Twitter. Fucking Instagram. Everyone and their mother has some asinine opinion about the upcoming presidential election.

You know what’s the most irritating thing about this whole circus? It seems like moderate people like myself don’t even exist anymore. You’re either a die-hard, politically correct, liberal shitstain or you’re a gun-toting, Confederate-flag-flying conservative cuntnugget. There is absolutely no in-between anymore.

Sorry about all the swearing – I just tend to get really worked up about this. It’s even more frustrating because I don’t really know where I stand. I just don’t align with any one party, you know? If I tell people I support a woman’s right to end a pregnancy, suddenly I’m a baby-killer. Liberal, they say. But if I disagree with more stringent gun control, oh, then I’m a racist redneck. Conservative. In actuality, I have no idea what I am anymore, who I’m supposed to vote for, what I’m supposed to do.

It’s just so goddamn frustrating.

In the past, I’ve always been so proud of America. That’s why I got a job protecting her. I’ve been on the force for over twenty years, and nobody works harder than me. In fact, I pull in more overtime than everyone else in my department combined – not that anyone ever notices. And I never even get paid for it. So why do I still do it? Because I love my country and I will protect her people, even if they don’t always think they need protecting.

As a patriotic American, I used to think that one of the most important duties one must fulfill is to vote. Every American needs to have a say in who rules their country, who forms their government. But this election… this election I’ve just been so unsure.

If you’re in America, you probably already know who the candidates are. If you’re not, well, here’s a quick recap. There’s Donald Trump, the Republican candidate, one of the most controversial figures in American business and politics. Then there’s Hillary Clinton for the Democratic Party, with the emails and the cover-ups and the flip-flopping back and forth. And we can’t really discount Bernie Sanders, giving Hillary a run for her money, understood by most people to be some sort of a Socialist.

Three vastly different candidates – or are they? What are their secret agendas? What will they do for the United States? Will they bring us honor? Or will they lead us to ruin?

I’ve spent hours studying their promises, their lies, their successes, their failures… but I was still unable to choose. The election draws nearer, but here I was completely stumped.

But then, I had this idea. The perfect way to choose the right candidate.

Let me ask you a question: how do you measure a candidate? By the people who support them. Look at their fan clubs. Of course, we all hear the worst about the fan clubs, don’t we? Trump fans are racist. Bernie fans are entitled. Hillary fans… does she even have any fans? Hell, I don’t know. Most Democrats I know are rooting for Bernie, if I’m honest. But how do I know whose fans are really the best? Whose groups are the most… American?

I came up with an idea. A very, very good idea.

See, I wanted to see which party’s members were the best. Most honorable, most compassionate, most intelligent… the whole shebang. And I could think of only one way to determine the moral fiber of each.

I started with a Republican. You know, it’s surprisingly easy to find out who’s in what party nowadays, people spew their political opinions like a constant stream of vomit. He was this pretty big guy, about middle age, and by his ‘Make America Great Again’ cap, I could reasonably assume he was a Trump supporter. I picked him up late at night when I was working overtime. You’d be surprised how compliant people can be when you flash them a badge. I told him I needed to take him down to the station. But I brought him home instead.

I spent about twelve hours with George. That was his name, I guess, based on his wallet. It was hard, grueling work. And I paid special attention to his behavior throughout the process.

At first, he swore at me. Called me a motherfucker, an asshole, a piece of shit, a psycho. After the first few hours – I focused on the blowtorch to start – he got even more volatile, this time a few slurs thrown in. When I brought out my serrated knife, he had a change of heart, started crying and begging for his life. By the time he lost too much blood for me to continue, he was alternately crying for mercy and cursing me to hell. Overall, very disappointing. I conjectured that the Democrats would have no problem performing better.

I waited until I’d disposed of the body before moving on to my next subject.

Luckily for me, there was a Bernie rally in town that next week, and I was chosen to stick around for security. I found some kid with a ‘Feel the Bern’ t-shirt, and as I observed him, he remarked that he’d vote Hillary over any Republican any day. So I decided to count him as a two-fer.

I dragged him to my squad under the guise of ‘disturbing the peace.’ We were at my house less than twenty minutes later. I had real high expectations of him.

Unfortunately, I was unpleasantly surprised.

See, he started with the begging, the rationalizations, the reasoning. I was impressed by that, and I wondered how long he’d keep it up. I kept my line-up the same as with George – the blowtorch, the serrated steel, eventually moving on to the needles. It was a relatively short time later that he devolved to cussing me out. I was most disappointed when he reverted to slurs as well – I really thought he’d be more conscientious than that. He ended his life much the same as George did – with begging and cursing and bleeding.

At first, I was completely stumped. I’d put both George and – Thomas, was it? – through grueling tests and neither had done any better than the other.

And that’s when it hit me. That’s when I finally understood.

See, I don’t worry about politics now. I’ve stopped following the candidates. I’ve stopped listening to empty promises, stopped giving a shit about primaries or poll numbers or scandals. Hell, I’m not even voting in the next election.

What I know now is that there is no real difference. Despite all the talk and animosity and hatred, all the candidates, all Americans, all people anywhere…

Well. They all die the same. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

About the author

Rona Vaselaar

Rona Vaselaar is a graduate from the University of Notre Dame and currently attending Johns Hopkins as a graduate student.

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