There’s another election coming up on Tuesday, and you all know what that means, right? It means going to some random church and voting for the people with the coolest-sounding names, just so you can get one of those “I voted” stickers and wear it around to the bars like some sort of fashion accessory.

Or, if you don’t like voting for people you’ve never heard of based on the merit of how rad their names sound, you write in your own candidates and vote for them. It is that stellar logic that got Cap’n Crunch elected mayor of Pittsburgh and Don Knotts elected as a judge in Miami.

But what do you do when you get sick of writing in Mickey Mouse or that one guy from the movie “Tron” just for the sake of voting for somebody other than the guy running unopposed? Well, why not vote for me?

During the November election, I wrote a column that criticized people who wrote “Vote for so-and-so” in chalk on sidewalks around campus (especially since everybody who doesn’t need to wear a hockey helmet to ride the bus knew that a vote for Ted So-and-so was a vote for Mary Whatever, but whatever).

So, naturally, less than a week later somebody had written “Vote for Chris Becker for County Coroner” in chalk on the sidewalk outside the Advance-Titan office.

You might think it strange that the Coroner of Winnebago County (where we be) is an elected position, but you would be wrong — dead wrong! Is there any job more sacred than the guy who makes sure that dead bodies stay dead? Obviously not.

Unfortunately, I did not receive this backing until a week before the election, so I did not get a chance to get my campaign off the ground. I did not have time to go around shaking people’s hands and telling them that if they voted for me and then got hit by a bus, they could trust me with what was left of their corpses.

Also, I was concerned with the conflict of interest that would arise from my being a dedicated and objective journalist charged with covering the election if I were actually running in that election. How could I be an impartial reporter when I obviously have a stake in the outcome?

Well, screw that; I am now taking my campaign seriously. I want to be YOUR coroner!

Now I know what you’re thinking: “You can’t start running for office five months after the election ended, you idiot! You have to wait for the current coroner’s term to be up.” Yeah well, your mother!

Have you learned nothing from the horrible abortion of democracy that resulted in Arnold Schwarzenegger becoming the governor of California? All I have to do to get elected to anything, whenever I want, is to instigate a recall election. And all I have to do to instigate a recall election is to convince people I could do a better job than the current coroner.

That may seem stupid, and if it does, why don’t you cram it? You might think that it would be difficult to convince somebody that you could be the best coroner, but I actually have a very strong platform, and I think I could convince you that I’d be the best person to poke and prod the many orifices of your dead relatives.

Now I don’t know about the rest of you, but I am sick of the do-nothing politics of the current administration. All they do is take the dead bodies, fill out some paperwork and then forget about them. Is that how you want your rotting corpse to end up?

That is why, if elected, I will incorporate voodoo magic into the daily operation procedures of the office of county coroner. While our current coroner is content with collecting his fat cat government paycheck and piling dead bodies up like Lincoln Logs, I will work hard to use black magic to bring you back from the great beyond!

Think about it: one day you’re minding your own business and your get into you 1983 Suzuki Samurai, as is your want; you turn the ignition only to discover that your bookie has put a hit out on you for not paying him back all the money you lost betting on greyhound racing, and now you’ve been exploded. Boy, if I had a nickel for all the times that’s happened to me!

So not only are you covered in fourth-degree burns, three of your limbs have been blown off, you are missing nearly all of your blood and your eyeballs resemble poorly poached eggs, but now you’re dead too. But with my great voodoo insurance plan, you won’t be dead for long. With a little bit of goat’s blood and eye of newt, the only thing you’ll have left to worry about are those other horrible deformities caused by the fiery car bomb.

I plan on doing scores of extensive research to bring voodoo to Winnebago County. For example, I will watch “Live and Let Die,” that one James Bond movie with Roger Moore and voodoo, ad nauseam until I can resurrect corpses into godless, flesh-devouring zombies.

That is my promise to you, the voters: I will work to turn you into a zombie!