Be warned, all ye swine that accuse me of being a Democrat: I have developed a technology that allows me to send offensive odors by email, and I’m especially interested to know how the ‘Montezuma’s Leprosy Diaper” packet comes through. I was first eligible to vote in the election of 1988, which, for those of you interested in math, makes me 165 in dog years. I remember writing in Frank Zappa on the ballot that year, but I also remember both of my arms turning into spoons during a Motorhead concert, so who knows. The main thing is I registered Independent, and my lack of affiliation hasn’t changed since that day. I want no part of the Democrats, although I often vote for one, my fists jammed in my nostrils; as for voting Republican, words cannot express my disapproval, although the letters ‘F’ and ‘U’ come close.
Why would a strapping young fellow in the very prime of his decrepitude be so bitter? That’s a very good question, and the answer is Ethelred the Unready, who returned to his throne upon the death of Svein Forkbeard in 1014. No, wait, wrong answer. The correct answer is in 1988 these were the viable candidates: George H.W. Bush Sr., and Michael Dukakis. “This,” I asked myself, “Is politics?” I figured if I registered Independent I wouldn’t be offering tacit support to this kind of silliness on the part of either party. Nobody could come up to me and say, “Hey, aren’t you in the same party as Michael Dukakis?” Besides which, my political preferences at the time were a mixture of Danish-style Social Democracy (Dansk Smørekringle) and radical nihilism. Dukakis was closest with Greek-style baklava. Now if you’ll pardon a professional filmmaker’s term, let’s ‘fast forward’ to 2004. (‘Fast forward’ is cinematography jargon meaning ‘Charlie Chaplin’). I’m still an Independent; who were the big candidates this time? George W. Bush, Jr., and John F. Kerry. You have got to be kidding me.
No wonder Bush won. He may be an awful, subhuman tyrant hell-bent on the rape and pillage of the entire world, but at least he’s brief about it. Kerry represents everything that’s been wrong with the Democrats for the last quarter-century (I exclude Bill Clinton, who was the best Republican president ever). Kerry is windy, dull, pompous, overbred, and has a giant target painted on the fleshy parts of his extreme lower back. When attacked by the Bush team in the predictable pattern experts call ‘piranhas on crack’, Kerry counterattacked a month later by trying to look like an idiot. When I saw the picture of him windsurfing in the same outfit Rutger Hauer wore at the end of ‘Blade Runner’, I lost consciousness and had to be revived with a Look Magazine photo spread of Myrna Loy in a bath of rose petals. The election was over. Between that and the bizarre failure of the Democrats to 1) demand verifiable receipts (such as Venezuela gets) from the electronic voting machines manufactured by Republican activists, and 2) hang Terry McAuliffe by his neck until silent, it became clear that they didn’t want to win.
Maybe the Democrats just don’t want to win, because being president after George W. Bush will be like cleaning up the chimp cage after a four-year chili-and-tequila binge. Or maybe they’ve grown accustomed to the floggings. Whatever the reason, Kerry’s almost immediate concession speech following the second-most suspicious election returns in modern history seems like a clear indication he’d rather be polite than let it rip and get his name on the Oval Office door. No surprise the Republicans are calling 51% of the vote a mandate. It’s all they need. 52% would be a landslide. So I remain, as I have remained all these years, inutterably disgusted with the spineless, cringing weenies who represent all that’s left of the at least adequate party of Franklin D. ‘Fear Itself’ Roosevelt. The only reason Kerry got the nod this time is he was taller than the other guys, so they figured maybe Bush would be intimidated.
Bush wasn’t intimidated, because he knew the news media was in his pocket (hence the bulge under his suit it was Bill O’Reilly), he owned the voting machines, his brother owned Florida, Jesus H. Christ had given him His personal endorsement, and besides, there’s nothing like a shot of bourbon after fifteen years sober. Kerry and all the rest of the institutional Democrats walked right into the biggest, most obvious trap in the world, the kind of setup one normally associates with the victims of Jason from the Friday the 13th movies. For this act of quantum meta-stupidity I whiz on their graves. Way to energize the voters for 2008, gang! Boy, this Independent just can’t wait to vote for another Democrat.
BEN TRIPP can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
His book, ‘Square In The Nuts’, has been held up at the printers by thugs but will be released as soon as hostage negotiations conclude.
See also www.cafeshops.com/tarantulabros.