It’s election day in my area. I have no beef with voting. It’s an important right to be valued; our own chance to participate in the democratic process while eating a half-warmed sausage on service station bread.
I also quite enjoy it.
I enjoy waving away the how to vote cards for parties I don’t care for and giving a condescending and choreographed eyebrow raise, nose lift and finger shoo as I flounce past, like an Elizabethan king turning away an overdone pheasant.
I enjoy smugly saying, as I get to the front of the queue, “It’s all good, I know what I’m doing”. I enjoy folding up my vote like it’s a sacred document, putting it in the box with a self-important flourish and walking out like I’ve just solved world poverty.
I do not like all the posters leading up to this. No one does. A blight on the landscape. Dull. Predicable. Ugly.
They are always just a name, a party logo and a massive close-up on a face, oversized nostrils like moon craters. So very, very unappealing.
Why are we stuck with this banal reflection of our political system every few years? Why can’t I see my local candidate green screened into a jeep escaping a velociraptor while holding onto their public roads policy?
Why can’t my local constituent defend his arts funding position by sticking his head on John Travolta’s face on the “Saturday Night Fever” soundtrack cover with a superimposed Marty Monster wrestling a kangaroo next to him?
But nup. Just close up face. Name. Party logo. On every damn pole in sight. If someone working at an advertising agency came up with that, they’d be shown the door faster than Damon Albarn at a Taylor Swift album launch.
No information. Nothing about what they’ll do. Could there be any less engaging a call to action?
”Vote me, here’s my nasal hair.”
What’s your main policy?
“Doesn’t matter mate, look at these bloody excellent teeth. The incisors on that.”
The reason the world is in this mess is that so many people tick a box because they prefer one candidates’ eyebrows over another.
“He’s racist and anti-abortion? But check out those cheekbones.
Believe me, I know racist cheekbones and this guy’s alright.”
Some of them are not attractive. I know that might sound a bit un-PC, but I feel I’m allowed to say that because they’re sticking a massive window sized picture of their head in front of me while I’m wait for a bus. What choice do I have but to judge?
“That’s a hair transplant, that chin has corners and why is his earlobe shaped like gnocchi?”
It must be done.
If you’re trying to get elected on your looks, why not put up a picture of someone else more aesthetically pleasing?
“Vote me Steve Higgins. Here’s a picture of Hugh Jackman”. I’d consider. We all would. He’s a delight. Sure you might run into trouble, but just swap them over quietly at 4am after the weekend and you’re already tattooed into voters temporal lobe as Wolverine.
It’s fair to say that the face is not every politicians best feature. Far from it in most cases. So, why do we need to see it plastered everywhere? Why not another body part? Would people not vote for a decent taut elbow? Or a nice well maintained big toe? I know a few people who would vote for some nice, shapely buttocks. And it wouldn’t be the first time an arse was elected.
Not enough voters think “I don’t care what you look like, I care what you’re going to do.”
Not enough of us can be bothered doing research while Netflix is still under $15 a month.
And there is no option to make an educated judgement based on these signs alone.
When did it come to this? Election posters used to at least look good.
Look at this one from Colonel John C Fremont in 1856 who had either just climbed up a mountain to touch a flag or was running away after mistakenly taking the hat of the man next to him at Denny’s.*
Either way, effective. Relatable.
Get a load of this from Benjamin Harrison and Levi P Morton in 1888. It looks like a bloody Star Wars poster. All it needs is a few lightsabers poking through those clouds.
Gerald Ford got it. Look at this gem from 1976. He even went the extra distance and moved his office to the toilet at his local diner and moved into his press secretary’s parent’s garage. That’s how to get it done.
If we’re to have more political engagement, let’s get it all out there. Let’s see our politicians show us what they are about in their posters. Whether it’s a nice well lit shot of them slipping a few wads of cash to a coal mine, hiding in a fridge or laying on the floor surrounded by whiskey bottles and broken glass. It may not win votes, but it’ll at least be something to distract us from crying about the current state of politics for a minute while we’re waiting for the 412 to the city. It’s time.
*Historical research required
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