Edward Durr, a truck driver from New Jersey, shockingly beat an opponent with twenty years of incumbency under his belt, Steve Sweeney, in the recent New Jersey state Senate election by triple-dog-daring people to vote for him.
It was just a few days before the election. Durr’s polls were down, he was out of money, and everyone was making fun of his last name. Right before he was about to quit, he came out with a statement triple-dog-daring the citizens of New Jersey to vote for him. And, surprising even himself, he won. “I really don’t understand,” Durr said, “Are Americans really that stupid and prideful?”
I reached out to a few voters who historically voted Democratic, but Republican this time, and asked why they made the switch. “Isn’t it obvious? I sure don’t agree with his politics, but I’ll be damned if I back down from a TRIPLE-dog-dare,” said Mario Valencio. “Now f*ck off and let me eat.” He said this at 2 AM at a Dunkin’ Donuts eating an unholy combination of a pizza slice wrapped in a hot dog bun and loaded to the brim with tomato sauce while blasting Bon Jovi’s “Living on a Prayer”.
I contacted Durr himself to ask about what he thought of the outcome and his crude tactics. “I’m just a simple truck driver. I love my truck. I eat in it, sleep in it, everything.” That wasn’t the question I asked, but he trucked on, “When I look out my window, I see the trees. Tall ones, small ones, old ones, young ones, boys, girls, veterans, redwoods, it doesn’t matter. They will all go into my truck. Then the truck will absorb me, and I will become the truck and the truck will take me away as well. The truck will pass through me, and when that happens, there will be nothing left. Goodbye.”
After that conversation, I was never quite the same again. Although that was probably the most literate thing he ever said.
Of course, this has major implications for politics moving forward. Joe Biden says if his approval rating doesn’t go up, then you are a “Chicken-hearted, cow-handed,ruffian who spouts fop-doodle malarkey.” I have no idea what this means, but we will just have to wait and see if it’s effective.
Hopefully, the Supreme Court will remedy this loophole before it gets out of hand and destroys the last remaining shred of democracy we have left. But I still can’t shake this feeling of being watched every time I see a truck. Little children in the sandpit with their toy trucks pick up the sand and stare at me. I now join my dog under the table in fear whenever the garbage truck arrives to whisk my trash away, watching, wondering where it goes. It’s comforting, I suppose, knowing we are all connected by this system of taking and receiving trash. If I were to go to a landfill, would I be able to distinguish my garbage from my neighbor’s? My friend’s? My enemy’s? Next time you see a wrapper on the floor, don’t ignore it. Pick it up and think, for it is a great melting pot. It doesn’t matter about your beliefs, religion, race, nationality, gender, sexual orientation, class, whether you're on Team Jacob or Team Edward (NOT THAT I HAVE AN OPINION); we all produce the same, sheer, utter, garbage. That being said, I triple-dog-dare you to like this article.