[QUOTE=Freddy the Pig]
Oh my God, you must not be getting the computer-generated ones. They’re an abomination, a visitation from the deepest circle of Hell.
I get at least one, and sometimes more, every day. They’re placed by the campaign of one Peter Roskam, candidate for Congress in my district, and invariably begin, “I’m calling with information about Tammy Duckworth”, his opponent.
They know that half the people will slam down the phone at that point, left with only one association in their mind: Tammy Duckworth is a bitch for placing that call.
But of course, the call isn’t from Duckworth, it’s about Duckworth–about how she wants to let in a bunch of Mexicans or some such shit. So if you’re dumb enough to actually listen to the call, you’ll know that it isn’t from Duckworth, but you’ll still think she’s evil. They have two chances to win.
I voted for Duckworth, and believe me, it isn’t easy to get me to vote for a liberal Democrat. In fact, under ordinary circumstances, it’s well-nigh impossible. But the Roskam motherfuckers did it.
[/QUOTE]
Oh my. I feel your pain. But I have to say that’s a brilliant strategy. Evil but brilliant.
That story reminds me of the time I was living in Staten Island, New York City during one of the mayor Guiliani re-election campaigns. For non-New York City dopers Staten Island is one of the few bastions of Republicanism in the city. If memory serves Guiliani took the island by at least 80% a few times.
Anyway the Guiliani campaign apparently decided this wasn’t a large enough margin of victory. So they started leaving those annoying pre-recorded phone messages for his campaign on the phone. The kind that take up reels of your answering machine if you aren’t home. As a registered Dem who wouldn’t vote Republican unless Al Sharpton was running at the top of the ticket this annoyed the heck out of me. Nothing like coming home from a long day’s hard work only to have to listen to five messages while you try to figure out which one was from your mother.
One of the few perks of Staten Island living was the ability to take the Staten Island ferry. The ferry’s a magnificent trip. You sit there on the water for twenty-five minutes and watch Manhattan slowly grow larger. The ferry itself was also a politician’s dream. There’s a huge captive audience with nothing to do but snack, read the newspaper or stare into space.
The mayor was particularly fond of showing up at the terminal I assume mostly to get in endless rounds of praise from adoring voters. After the third day in a row of stupid phone calls from his campaign I could finally take it no more. I plastered a phony smile on my face and walked up to him. He bend down to me and I yelled, “Could you please stop calling my house? I am a Democrat and will not vote for you!” I race-walked to the ferry as fast as I could, turning around only once to see Giuliani’s completely startled face.
Oh and what was on my machine when I got home? Another pre-recorded call from the Guiliani campaign! This time I did the only thing I could: I laughed.