Racism! Slavery! National politics! The country was
electrified. Douglas! Lincoln! One senate seat, one no-holds barred grudge
match between these titanic heavyweights. No American at the time (nor astute
Civil War historian at present) could avoid hearing about the debates between
The Great Debater and the (future) Great Emancipator. That the country might
have been rent asunder before the Civil War even began is a testament to its
scope and emotional power. However, another less-publicized but nonetheless
pivotal election was the stage for some of the finest debate the United States
has ever seen.           
     
In 1854, Vermont’s 17th congressional district was left vacant by the death of
incumbent Darth Nihilus. Many fine men and women scrambled madly for the chance
to make a name for themselves in politics, but soon two clear favorites
emerged. Besides the fact that women could not run for office, these figures
clearly separated themselves from the pack.
Nikola Tungsten, an immigrant from the Adriatic region of Slovenia campaigned
on the platform that more money should be used to fund advanced technologies.
Tungsten was a skilled blacksmith and had served for eleven years as the
Octorfordshire Town Mad Scientist. His supporters were the urban poor (who
hoped for safer working conditions) and stranded time-travelers from the future
(praying that a time machine would soon be built to take them home).
Lars Scrimgeour was a Lutheran minister and fitness expert. Known for his
dashing good looks and large penis, he espoused the rugged outdoor life.
Consequently, he favored burning all cities and urban areas to the ground.
Attractive women (who could not vote but nonetheless had the power to sway
their husbands’ minds) formed his main constituents.
No quotes or clippings can be found which shed light on the first eleven
debates between these upstanding members of society. However, many references
are made to the large crowds they drew. It is noted that “Jebus Christ hisself
couldna made more people come!” (August 11, 1854 Montpelier Currant-Herald).
The twelfth debate was, interestingly, controversial enough to warrant reams of
articles, books and pamphlets that have survived the tumult of history to be
studied today. It is now understood that this was the result of one question.
From the transcripts of the debate:
Moderator Elvis Melbourne: Gentleman, if I may propose a
hypothetical situation designed to test your decision making skills should you
eventually enter office? Here it is: you are working for a non-profit farming
and landscaping organization in Massachusetts 150 years in the future. You are
operating a rather large truck, which is an oil-powered personal train that
exists in the future. You are smoking a cigarette while steering this truck,
and you reach out the window to put the cigarette out against the outside of
this truck. My question: which would be the significantly worse situation: if,
unbeknownst to you, while all this is happening, the truck was composed entirely
of flammable material, or if it was made of pure PCP? Pastor Scrimgeour, I’ll
let you respond first.
Lars Scrimgeour: Well, Elvis, that’s easy enough to answer. It
would be a lot worse if the car was made from something flammable. You would
die, the property of your place of work would be destroyed, and perhaps the
fire would spread! If I was the U.S. Representative, serving the good men and
women of Vermont, I would come to the same conclusion.
EM: Interesting. Dr. Tungsten?
Nikola Tungsten: Well, that’s pretty absurd. Are you kidding me? If you put
the cigarette out on the PCP, it would light, and you’d get wicked high!
LS: Uh...so? It’s better than being dead!
NT: Uh-huh, man. No way. No fucking way!
EM: Care to explain your reasoning, Dr. Tungsten?
NT: What’s to reason? You’d be so fucked up and high that you
probably wouldn’t be able to work for, like, at least the rest of the day!
LS: And?
NT: And Jesus Christ! You’d get fired! Or at least get your
boss pissed at you! I’d rather be dead, man. I’d take the fucking bullet! Just
put one right between the eyes! Yeah! I’d do it real quick, end my misery!
Anything’s better than having that one guy at least a little mad at me!
EM: Ah. Well, Pastor Scrimgeour? Care to respond?
LS: Actually...no. I change my vote. Is it too late? Do I get
a do-over?
On the eve of September 7, 1854, the population of Vermont (and by that I mean
landowning, adult white males) visited their local polling station and cast
their vote. In the end, the result seemed inevitable. By a landslide, Nikola
Tungsten was elected to Congress. He in no way distinguished himself, proposing
no bills and voting “Present” on all legislation. No record of his death
exists, and he’d be like wicked old, like 200 or something if he were still
alive. The conclusion to his bizarre story has yet to be written.
Because the time-travelers got him.