For months, this country’s feeble-minded officials have spoken out against voter ID laws, suggesting these restrictions could endanger the oh-so-precious freedoms of the masses. Their stubborn devotion to equality has encouraged a system whereby, in many states, a simple signature is all it takes to affirm a voter’s identity! But little do your wax-eared politicians know, their reckless idealism has enabled the ultimate voter fraud, opening the ballot box to anyone, or anything, that bears the merest imprint of humanity. Yes! Thanks to lax voter ID laws, my army of expressionless automata and shrieking golems will vote me into the White House, and there’s nothing you can, legally, do to stop them.
You sweet fools! Soon, my legion of wind-up men and rock-made-flesh will drive a dagger deep into the very heart of American democracy! Marching across the nation, they will assume the identities of every registered voter, dead or alive, falsifying their signatures and electing me president!
Do you not realize the price of your leniency? Come Election Day, you shall! When each one of my clockwork terrors bends down in a wordless symphony of gears to sign an affidavit attesting to its identity, as my jawless golems, moaning with the agony of new life, present a bank statement or utility bill as alternate proof of identification. Then, you will come to know your greatest mistake! Oh, the mockery! Oh, the ease of it all!
As wave after wave of my hideous, mechanical children and granite homunculi inundate your polling stations, your precious volunteers will be able to do nothing but marvel at their gemstone eyes glittering in the light as they pass through to the voting booths beyond—the hands of your electoral commission tied by the very governing body I will soon command! Once within, they will fulfill their dark programming: using the provided pencil to vote me into the most powerful office in the free world.
I can see it now! My faithful grotesques will choke the civil avenues of this great nation! Writing my name on every ballot!
How could you not foresee this?
When you decided to eschew strict voter ID laws in the hopes that doing so would avoid disenfranchising a significant proportion of the American electorate, did you not imagine someone might begin constructing a finely tuned mechanical doppelganger in his image whose slow, pendulum-driven movements could mimic those of its master? Did you not think that he would then send this opal-eyed automaton, shambling in a crude and chilling approximation of the human stride, to influence the election in his favor? When you decided to uphold your impotent principles, blind to how ruthless political interest groups might defraud the system for their own gain, did you also not think to consider that someone might invoke an incubus from stone, mixing chunks of granite with frog’s blood, handfuls of his own hair, and jasmine in a clay pot, setting this pot out to gestate for eight nights, and placing it in a kiln where the spirits of fire would grant it unwanted life, all to make stone manlings that would blindly do his bidding, arriving between 8 a.m. and 3 p.m. at a local polling station to support his election to the presidency of the United States?
Imbeciles, all of you.
When endless divisions of walking mannequins and screeching, man-shaped rocks line up outside each and every regional voting center in the eighteen states that do not require a photo ID to cast a ballot, regret will wrap its clammy hand around the cold hearts of your politicians, as they realize with a simultaneous whimper how their proud doctrines have failed them, leading me to claim this country as my own!
Even now, as the springs that power my beautiful, brass men are being wound in synchrony by my stone-beasts, who cry out with the pleasures and treachery of their first belabored breaths of existence, I am preparing myself for the moment I assume the presidency of this hopelessly idealistic nation. Until then, watch the debates! Register to vote! But when you hear the sharp clanking goosestep of my unblinking machines and granite imps, you will realize a simple fact.
You never had a vote in the first place.