Who Will Be Our Next President? This Small Town Has No Idea and Wants Us to Stop Asking Them

When it comes to predicting the results of next year’s presidential election, all eyes are on this small town where just a few thousand people live. We asked them who our next president will be, and they explained to us that they have no idea, they never have, and they want us to leave them alone.

“I could flip a coin, I guess,” the town’s comptroller and elder-statesman Patrick told us. “But, like, why are you asking me? There are three hundred million people in this country. You want me to speak for all of them? No thanks. I’m good.”

We asked Brenda, the local librarian, who she thinks will take the Oval Office next fall. “Unless you’re looking to borrow a book,” she replied, “please stop coming here.”

Insightful, but noncommittal. This town keeps its secrets.

But in a county known for their political prowess, it seemed that everyone had an opinion—even local students. We asked one sixth-grader, Macy, to make a prediction. She told us, “My parents said not to talk to strangers.”

The political acumen of even the young folks here is impressive, to say the least. Clearly there’s something in the water.

“Well, yeah,” Macy added, shirking her parents’ advice, “There is something in the water. Microplastics. Because nobody will regulate anything. And barely anyone’s even reporting on it. But you’re here doing a little ballot-box quiz for your website or whatever? Gimme a break.”

Kids, right? They have the wildest imaginations.

We’ll check back after the election with precocious Macy, bookish Brenda, and aging Patrick to see if they got it right. Until then, I think we can all agree: This small town’s got a little bit of statistical magic in it.

“Did you not listen to a word we said?” asked Brenda, on our way out of town. “We aren’t just a statistic—that’s what we’re trying to tell you.”

Ah, Brenda. A perfect encapsulation of the median voter. We’ll miss ya.

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Back From Break

I am, clearly, back from my brief summer hiatus. Alert the appropriate authorities.

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Pre-Order My Book

My upcoming collection of satirical essays called This Won’t Help: Modest Proposals for a More Enjoyable Apocalypse comes out October 24. You can pre-order it at any of the book-sellers linked here:

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Behind the Writing

We’re obsessed with the “town that predicted the last ten elections” story. Probably because we want to feel sure of something in a wildly spinning, ungraspable world. But just remember Brenda told us: “Seriously, leave me alone.”

Anyway, it’s gonna be Dennis Kucinich.

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That’s all for today. Thanks, as always, for reading and supporting this newsletter. I’ll see you right here next week—or this Sunday if you decide to: