Hero’s Journey: My Road to Greatness

Midterm elections were last week, and as every one knows, the greatest politicians are forged in in the trials of college student governments. Here's a look back at one particularly ambitious freshman's campaign speech.

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Midterm elections were last week, and as every one knows, the greatest politicians are forged in in the trials of college student governments. Here’s a look back at one particularly ambitious freshman’s campaign speech:

My Fellow Classmates,

My name is John Sweeds and I want to be your Freshman Class Council Representative. I could tell you that I’ll deliver three-ply toilet paper, or find a way to get you even more free food, or that I could rid you of your crippling freshman insecurity that haunts you in the darkest corners of your mind. But that would be a lie, because I truly could not care less about those things. Or you. But you will still vote for me. Because I’m very special. I was Student Council President in high school, no big deal. And being on Freshman Class Council is important to me. So it’s kind of a big deal too.

My entire future depends on this. I have it all planned out. I’ll use this election as the springboard to launch my Princeton political career. My charm, perfectly parted hair, and well-placed sexual favors will advance me through the ranks of Class Council. In speeches, I’ll always be able to point back to my years of service, starting in freshman year. Of course, at that point I’ll be a shoe-in for Student Body President. After all, who could resist this smile?

When I graduate, the political experience you would have given me here will serve me well. First I’ll pretend that I have every intention of living a normal life. I’ll settle down with a boring pretty wife and work at a St. Louis law firm for a couple years. I’ll push down the latent realization of my unfulfilled and pointless show life, shoving it to the edges of my psyche. At night the pain of my wasted youth will overcome me and I’ll be forced to curl up naked in corner of my two car garage, beads of sweat rolling off my taut alabaster skin as my entire body is wracked with the heaving cries of a lost and wounded animal. In the morning I’ll eat my corn flakes and go to work.

After a few years, I’ll re-enter politics to gain the power I always felt would fill the void in my soul. I’ll take up whatever inane position the plebeians happen to be chanting for in my district. I’ll assure them with a confident smile and a firm yet sensual pat on the back that I’m on their side and that I’m going to congress to get things done. It’ll be just like that time I callously tried to win your friendship by sitting at your lunch table for two minutes, then promised you any ridiculous fancy you could think of. “Better food? You got it!”, “Open Greek Life to freshman? Of course!”, “Abolish all school work and divvy up Princeton’s endowment among the students? Well sir, if you vote for me, I’ll do my darndest to make it happen!”

Of course, I’ll win a seat in congress (I went to Princeton after all), and, my thirst for power unquenched, I’ll begin the long climb up the rungs of influence in the twisted world of politics. This time, a can-do attitude and intimate services in the Capitol Hill coat closet will only get me so far. I’ll have to use everything I learned in college to gain influence. I’ll grovel to the evilest companies I can find for campaign contributions, just as I once scrounged for corporate internships. The utter bullshit I once smeared my papers with will now stream from my mouth like a broken fire hydrant across the halls of Congress and into the eyes and ears of the American people. Then I’ll run for president.

It will all make sense to you then. This was my plan the whole time and no one would have ever guessed. Who would think that every move made by an 18-year-old college freshman would be for the purpose of this ultimate goal? No one could be that crazy! Oh yeah? I’m that crazy. Didn’t take a hit in Terrace? Candidates who smoke pot don’t get elected, idiot. Worked unimaginably hard to keep a 3.7 GPA? Yeah, voters look at your GPA, stupid!  Knocking on random people’s doors at midnight with a bag of Twizzlers? Umm, duh! Barack personally delivered a Twix to my house every single day back in 2008.

Every president in the past 50 years has been on their Freshman Class Council.

When you see my ridiculous posters plastered all over every single dorm hall, or find my annoying fliers and desperate candy slipped under your door, or see my unbelievably toolish Facebook posts, you can laugh all you want. Because this ridiculous, annoying, unbelievably desperate tool is going places. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.

So please vote Jonny Sweeds, the sweetest candidate, for Freshman Class Council!  Here, take a lollipop, fatty.

– ADG ’18