MEMORIAL SERVICES HELD FOR G.R.I.P.
Courier-Post, Cherry Hill, N.J.
Published: 11/9/2003

Buried along with a lot of good political, non-incumbent challengers and (let's not kid ourselves) a lot of bad ones in the recent statewide election in New Jersey was the strategy that was supposed to carry them into office: GRIP.

DJs and other commentators across New Jersey pushed this acronym to mean Get Rid of Incumbent Politicians. Everyone was supposed to find out who represented their district in the state Senate and Assembly, then vote against them.

Given the systemic corruption in New Jersey, you've got to sympathize with the idea. Nonetheless, the local political machine only gained more power in this last vote. Why didn't GRIP catch on?

Maybe because it was supposed to appeal to thinking people who seek change, yet told these thinking people to throw up their hands and give up on actually learning about the candidates. Just vote for the outsider, no matter who it is. Simple.

Frequently asked question No. 1:

“With that kind of logic, couldn't you end up voting for Lyndon LaRouche?”

Answer:

Uh, well, maybe. But if the new LaRouche-led Legislature didn't do everything you wanted by the next election, you'd blindly vote against those incumbents too, hoping that someday, more or less by accident, someone will be the right fit.

Frequently asked question No. 2:

“With that kind of logic, couldn't you end up as a lonely transient?”

Answer:

It ... look, I don't have time for you. Just let me explain how GRIP should have worked.

Some politicians retain a sense of purpose throughout their political careers. A few burn out, however. Others develop a sense of entitlement about the office. And many become so pragmatic that they lose their idealism and sense of ethical nuance. So if we'd all GRIPed, what would have happened?

Well, all the people who were standing in the way of progress? They'd be gone. All the people who were creating progress? They'd be gone too. Who would have replaced them? Perhaps they would have been vibrant, possibly they would have been competent, maybe they'd have been goats. Who knows? You didn't even learn their names.

Transcripts from the first Assembly session after the Great GRIP Revolution:

Assemblyman LaRouche: “Does anyone know how to use the candy machine? It ate my dollar.”

Assemblyman Howard: “There's a candy machine?”

Assemblyman Fine: “I wanna reform the state highway system. Which button do I press?”

Assemblyman Howard: “That's my pager, you idiot.”

Assemblyman Sniffy: “Woof.”

Assemblyman DeRita: “OK, people, listen up. We're all going to be voted out in two years no matter what. So from now until Thursday, I'm stealing toilet paper from the men's room.”

The other thing working against GRIP is that recently it succeeded elsewhere. Listen to testimony from a satisfied customer.

“We didn't like our governor after our state got ripped off by Enron,” said Bob Fakequote of San Dimas, Calif. “So we kicked him out and brought in an outsider.

“Now we have a muscle-bound action film star who reportedly joined a closed-door meeting with Enron Chairman Kenneth Lay in May 2001 shortly after rolling blackouts hit the state. Our new governor-elect won't say whether he went to the meeting or what it was about or whether the state will keep trying to get energy companies to refund $9 billion in windfall profits they made here.

“Fortunately, this being California, we also have pot.”

So here's to GRIP, a simple kind of strategy aimed at a complex kind of voter. We'll never hear it pass our way again – until of course, the next statewide election, when we'll hear it even louder.