It works this way: "You call and say, 'This is the bureau of voter fraud regulation. Due to your failure to show up in the primaries, you are ineligible to vote in the general election. While we apologize for the inconvenience, lines are expected to be four to eight hours long, so we didn't want you to get here and then be turned away.'"
Every word of this call is, of course, nonsense. But, if you target a specific group of people -- very often minority people -- you can, perhaps, keep them from coming out to the polls. Especially if you promise "long lines with failure waiting at the end of them" -- the world's worst theme park marketing campaign. Besides, you know, "come here and die publicly." But, second worst. Definitely second worst.
Adam is sort of a robocall buff, and he spent a gleeful half-hour explaining all the subgenres of the form. There are the calls to jam up an opponent's office on Election Day; there are the calls that tell you you'll need a passport -- a document highly correlated to wealth -- in order to vote; and there are the 2 a.m. calls purporting to be from an opponent's campaign designed specifically to piss people off.
"I'm still not voting for Trump. Good night."
Robocalls are also almost impossible to track and, for a consulting fee, many robocalling firms will show you how to set up the call and do it yourself, eliminating any liability or record that the firm might have.
The good news is that robocalls are falling out of favor. Another political consultant I spoke with told me that electioneering robocalls have dropped way off because "you can go on the Internet and report them, and the backlash can be huge." Way to go, Internet: For once, our mob mentality is doing some good.