Vote for me. Or don't. What do I care?
Seriously, I couldn't give a damn whether or not you support me. I know it sounds wrong for a candidate for governor to say, but it's true. My whole premise in running is to prove that you don't need me—or anyone—telling you how to run your life. I hope you'll join me in this little experiment, but the cards are on the table: You don't need me, so why in the world would I need you?
If I succeed, you'll never even know you elected me.
Our current governor, Mitch Daniels, likes to say, "You'll be amazed how much government you'll never miss." That, in a nutshell, is my vision for the state. It's pretty simple, folks. You elect me, I stay out of your way for the next four years. While you're out enjoying your newfound freedom from government, I'll most likely be camping, fishing and hunting in the many wonderful (and soon to be privatized) state parks Indiana enjoys. I'd invite you to join me, but you'd probably ruin the peaceful beauty that is unadultered nature.
I'm the Bobby Knight of government efficiency.
Forget for a second the oxymoron that is "government efficiency." As a devoted fan of The General, I've taken many of his life lessons and applied them in my current position as Director of the Pawnee City Department of Parks and Recreation. My track record speaks for itself. In the last six years in this job, I've successfully helped close down Portola Skate Park, the Grice Dog Run, the Morris-Easton Observatory, the Mohanga Native American Heritage Center and most public drinking fountains. That's the same sort of can-do attitude I intend to bring to the State House.
A brief word about the State Fair.
The State Fair is clearly a gross misuse of your tax dollars, and I intend to lease out its operation. But it's still an important part of our heritage, and so I will include a clause in the lease contract naming the Governor of Indiana the State Fair Grillmaster. The only two weeks of the year you'll ever have to see me are when I'm flipping burgers and smoking pork ribs—made fresh from Indiana's finest blue ribbon winning livestock, of course. While the exact language will have to be worked out with the highest bidder, I also plan to negotiate for the title of Slaughterhouse Chief so that I can personally guarantee the freshness of the meat.
Who is Ron Swanson?
Ron Swanson was born on May 6th and has been Director of the Pawnee Parks and Recreation Department for six years. Ron believes in the elimination of government waste and has always brought his department in under budget. Ron believes government should be privatized and hopes to see his parks department follow the business model of the Chuck E. Cheese's family entertainment chain.
Ron has been married three times, twice to the same woman. Both of his ex-wives are named Tammy, which is also the name of his mother. He enjoys woodworking, dark-haired women, breakfast foods, and the works of Ayn Rand. Ron is also an avid hunter and fisherman, has a self described strong tolerance for alcoholic beverages and is a connoisseur of well-prepared steaks.
Ron won't publicly endorse a product unless he uses it exclusively and really believes in it. His only official recommendations are US Army issued mustache trimmers, Morton's Salt, the C.R. Lawrence fine two inch style oscillating knife blade, and Snake Juice. Ron has eaten a commissary hamburger for lunch every day for twelve years. Ron also hates bios and now respects you less because you've spent this much time reading one.
Ron Swanson's Pyramid of Greatness
I have been developing the Swanson Pyramid of Greatness for years. It's a perfectly calibrated recipe for maximum personal achievement. It would make an excellent addition to the Indiana Constitution. My personal favorite? Capitalism: God's way of determining who is smart, and who is poor.
On Education
It's never too early to learn that the government is a greedy piglet that suckles on a taxpayer's teet until they have sore, chapped nipples.
On Government
I think that all government is a waste of taxpayer money. My idea of a perfect government is one guy who sits in a small room at a desk, and the only thing he’s allowed to decide is who to nuke. The man is chosen based on some kind of IQ test, and maybe also a physical tournament, like a decathlon. And women are brought to him, maybe ... when he desires them.
On Family Values
I have been married three times, once to Tammy, and then twice to another woman named Tammy. Every time she laughs, an angel dies. Even telemarketers avoid her. Her birth was payback for the sins of man. But you know the worst thing about her? She works for the library. Tammy cheated on me, then we divorced, then I ran into her sister Beth and found out she hates Tammy too, so we started dating. It was like a fairy tale. On my deathbed, my final wish is to have my ex-wives rush to my side so I can use my dying breath to tell them both to go to hell one last time.
On Jobs
I got my first job when I was 9. Worked at a sheet metal factory. In two weeks, I was running the floor. Child labor laws are ruining this country.
On Art
Why the government is involved in art is beyond me. I also think it's pointless for a human to paint scenes of nature when they could just go outside and stand in it.
It's your money. Go spend it on yourself.
You will always know how to use your money better than I will. I take that approach to government, and I take that approach to campaigns, too. So use that $20 you were going to give to me and treat yourself to something nice. Not only will you feel better, but you'll have contributed to our free market system of capitalism. In that case, we all win.
If you need ideas of how to spend that money on yourself, here's a list of things I would spend it on:
- A subscription to Buckmasters magazine
- A lifetime fishing license
- Four pounds of bacon or, alternatively, two pounds of bacon and two pounds of ground sausage
- A pocket-sized bottle of scotch
- The latest Duke Silver jazz CD
- Firewood for my heat stove
- A new diamond-cut blade for my table saw