Election Night Special: Andrew Jackson’s Guide to Elections

Hey Y’all,

What do you bring people who are sick and tired of hearing about politics? Why more politics! Suck it up people, everything is politics. And on this night when we are all setting around the TV and computer waiting to hear the results so we can either gloat to our misguided friends and family or go into hiding for three days (kind of like SEC football), we should all sit back and take things easy. I mean you think OUR time period has dirty campaigning and political ads? Well you ain’t seen nothing until you’ve run for office in 19th century Tennessee. That was a time of politicking.

Which got me to thinking…wasn’t Andrew Jackson promised another guest blogging shot? I think he was and I for one am not one to go around angering Old Hickory. The big cable news channels and regular networks will bring you the pontificating of various strategists, reporters, and commentators, but no one else will bring you the inside look at the political trail from the perspective of our seventh president.

So without further ado I hand over the blogging duties to our good friend President Andrew Jackson…

– Southern Blogger

Andrew Jackson: King of All Media

Thank you Southern Blogger,

It’s good to be back. Not many 19th century former presidents have done took to the inter nets but I’ve been a proponent of blogging for some time now. See folks like ol’ John Quincy Adams like to talk about how smart they are and such just cause their daddies get on HBO and they make a guest appearance on a Spielberg picture show, but that’s a load of week old turnip greens. It ain’t right and it just smells funny.

Well I’m back now by popular acclaim. I always was the man of the people, and I was so popular the last time I done blogged, the people spoke and here I am on this here world wide web. I’ve been following the campaign for president y’all got going on and I am very unimpressed with these here candidates. I mean do either of ’em know how shoot a pea off of a skunks behind at twenty paces? Any of ’em ever take a state from a f’urin power just with an ornery look, a rusty cannon, and a loaded Colt? Any of ’em ever saved New Orleans? I figure they could lose it. Can they even run a non sissy britches, raw hide, whiskey bent hell fire and damnation of a political campaign? I thought not.

Well, here we are then. I’m here to tell all you future candidates for high office, whether president of these States United or Knox County log cabin inspector of them intricacies and aggravations of a political candidacy. If you take to heart my easy to follow advice, you too will soon be closing down no good stock jobbing banks and runnin’ them redcoats out of our continent.


Now friends, this one should be easy. If you can’t get people to come out and vote for you, then well you ain’t gonna win no office. A horse can’t be no thoroughbred if them other horses say it’s a mule. And that’s that.

But the question then is, well then how do you get people to come out and vote for you? Well, this is where people in your time just have it plum wrong. And I mean as wrong as Henry Clay singing during a sponge bath. That kind of wrong. I’ve been to your polling places. I’m even registered as a Jacksonian Democrat. But I got to tell you, you get nothing for going to the polls these days. Well a little sticker patch that says you done voted. That and some dern fools trying to hand you ballots already filled in with the people you ain’t even gonna vote fer.

In my day we had a sure fire way to get out the voters. Libations. I mean brandy, wine, port, whiskey, punch, ale, and even lager beer fer them German immigrants. Electoring was a party and if you didn’t have the right stuff on hand, you didn’t win. I’m telling you even the Father of this here country George Washington lost his first election because he didn’t bring him some hooch. America was founded on liquor, smuggling it, not paying taxes on it, and writing Constitutions on it. You can look it up…well not in them sissy britch textbooks you can’t.

Even in my first campaign, I knew whiskey held the keys to high office


Now this here is considered great political wisdom today. If you hadn’t noticed some pretty poor canards passes for wisdom these days when it comes to politics. Of course you want to get them undecideds. Everybody knows your kin, your kin’s kin, your kin in laws, and your friends that are such friends they is nearly kin are gonna vote for you. And of course you know that them other feller’s no good kin, and varmit friends is gonna vote for his side. So you need to get them other people. The problem was (and is) in Tennessee that that leaves only about twenty or thirty people left to go out and get.

They is the worst people let me tell you. Them people that can’t make up their minds. Do they want gravy or molasses on their biscuits? These are them folks that wants both. But you can’t have both. That would be bipartisan and that’s disgusting. It’s like I always said “that might be something a hog would eat, but I ain’t got to swaller it”.

So I had a tried and true method to get them extra votes. I used my old hickory cane. Now any proper gentleman’s got to have him a cane. I noticed these here Senate folks today ain’t got no time fer it. Well then, I’d just love to be in the Senate today, because I’d have one and then I could do some persuading.

If you are denser than John C. Calhoun after his hanging and don’t catch my meaning I feel sorry fer you. It’s pretty durn simple. Use your persuasion stick to help jump start their noggins. Either they see the error of their ways or they won’t find themselves to the polls. Either way, you got yourself the undecided vote.

Undecided voters are just folks that need more convincing


Now this here one really gets my goat. Them simple no good sons of a guns that run then no account attack hand bills in the newspapers and then hide behind their campaigns, or better yet trees (when the time comes to make amends).  This of course is a word y’all all know and understand…. poltroonery. I done hate poltroons. I hate poltroons like nothing else in the world. Them feckless, hyena breathing, tea sippin’, bullet duckin’, treaty makin’, Harvard goin’, willy whistlin’, Brit bungling’, stock jobbin’, bank bringin’ cowardly fools.

Now I’ve dealt with my share of attack ads. I remember this here one from one of my first presidential bids. Cost me the election. A cabal of poltroonish partners named Clay and Adams got together and found some scribes to print up this little ditty. You see it? They done printed a picture of me whoopin’ on some rascal (that deserved it) as if it were some kind of crime, and then had the gall to put a bunch of coffins on top of the page of all them men I supposedly assassinated.

Can you believe that? The whole thing were a bunch of damn lies! Everybody knows I killed more than six. You see my point? If the good people of Tennessee thought I only won six duels in my lifetime I’d have never gotten past county attorney. Six! That is an insult!

But here’s the point. Learn you some code duello and find you a trusty second and you will soon put an end to them political attacks. Shoot, you’d even have them “print-troons” working for you they’d be so scared. That’s called rising above the fray.

We all know it was more than six! I hate liars!


The real reason people done hate politicians is because too many of them make a bunch of promises and then get to Washington and get all cozy with them good fer nothing lobster mongering Federalists. They done ferget about Kentucky and their Western roots and settle in with the Adams crowd. They think because they get to be big ole senators that they don’t have to bring home the bacon (literally…in my time you actually had to bring home several pounds of bacon to your district). I’m talking about you Henry Clay! You name the time and place. We can have us an “interview”!

But back to my point….Henry Clay is the Bonaparte of Poltroonery. His ambition hath no bounds but he will run hiself up the wrong tree. Me…well I always stuck to my message. It was pretty simple….death to poltroons, an end to all banks, a big middle finger to them redcoats, and whiskey and cheese for all Americans.

You can call me corny, you can call me old fashioned…and you can call me a two term president!

And I did ever one of them things!


Now friends, sometimes it can be easy to win an election and gloat over the misfortune of your opponent. But that wouldn’t be gracious now would it? The Good Book says we are supposed to get along with our enemies and turn our cheeks and all that. And who am I to disagree? I was always gracious to my defeated opponents. I even paid for a few of their funerals.

This of course applies only to worthy foes. It don’t apply to poltroons that make up nefarious stories about your wife or who undercount your dueling prowess or who are named Clay. For those people there ain’t no cheek turning. For those people win or lose it’s best for them to get out of town.

Did you ever hear what John Quincy Adams said at my inauguration?  Of course you didn’t because that rascal didn’t stick around long enough to hear it. Although he missed out on some grade A cheese block, he was pretty smart in the end I guess. He figured I was none too happy about the fact that his campaign put my poor Rachel in her grave. And I suppose he had enough brains to know he wanted to keep his brains. All I’m saying is he knew enough math to figure out the quickest coach from Washington city to New England.

Despite what poltroons say, I am a gracious man.

And I was gracious enough to let him have a head start. Sometimes I think I’m getting too soft in old age.

Your Humble Obedient Servant,

– A. Jackson