It's Mondale Time
When I was a teenager, I worked in a restaurant – a Ponderosa, home of fast-food steak. I used to be able to cook over 100 cow-parts in an hour. We called it “shoveling shit.” Anyway, I was part of the opening crew on the weekends and we would come in early and setup for the day. The manager wouldn’t arrive until later, so we generally acted how teenagers would act when left alone in a restaurant - hide carrots in people’s coats, stick your hand in a tub of French dressing, and lock each other in the meat freezer. Once, Cheri, a member of the setup crew, asked to be given a tour of the men’s bathroom, as she had never been in one before. Of course, I acquiesced.
She walked in and saw the urinal.
“What is that?” she inquired
“That’s a special sink,” I replied, with the appropriate amount of confident enthusiasm.
“A special sink for what?”
“Well, some men are prone to dry skin, so this sink has water which is rich in minerals to help add moisture.” I flushed (the urinal, not me) for effect.
“Then what’s that?” she asked, pointing at the little deodorant cake sitting in the basin of the urinal.
“That’s a special abrasive soap used for removing the dead skin.”
I could sense her disbelief, so I added “Mr. Carrier uses it all the time.” Mr. Carrier was one of the restaurant managers.
“Ohhhhh. I didn’t know that.”
Satisfied, the tour ended. When Mr. Carrier arrived, Cheri asked him about his hands. Mr. Carrier was bit perplexed that anyone would think he washed his hands in a urinal.
Anyway, the point of is to highlight the similarities between this story and the current presidential brouhaha.
The American public is represented by Cheri – easily led, easily amused, easily easy. I represented the presidential candidates – I make stuff up and Americans blindly buy in. Based on the current crop of candidates, we Americans have been fooled to wash our hands in the urinal. Over and over again.
I have never seen so many Democrats and Republicans unsure and uncommitted of their candidates. The hopefuls are too black, too female, or not evil enough. And they all are incompetent to run the country.
Now, perhaps, if I were a woman, I would vote for Clinton (either the woman-Clinton or the limelight-hogging, womanizing bastard-version; I have trouble at times deciding who the real candidate is). If I were black, it could be enough reason to vote for Obama or possibly Will Smith (except he’s white). If I were into frozen potatoes, McCain might be my man. If I were a sex offender, my vote goes to Nader (OK, so maybe Ralph isn’t really a sex offender, but he looks like one).
I fail to mention Huckabee, and not because he dropped out. It’s just that no one in their right mind would vote for anyone named Huckabee. It sounds like a Mississippi-based catfish-only restaurant with special hand-washing urinals.
Speaking of Nader, in the 2000 election, my kids and I started a Ralph Nader web site. We wrote a story about how Nader, upon losing the election, became a tripe salesman in Florida for a Japanese company called the Happy Lucky Sunshine Fun-Time Tripe Company. We noted how he won the coveted salesman of the month award, therefore easing the pain of his most recent election defeat.
We also wrote about how people would fall into the meat processing machines and get grinded into tripe hot dogs and subsequently served to the public.
I am surprised my children are not in prison yet.
Truth be told, politicians and their political parties are idiots. Republicans and Democrats are two very different breeds of idiots, however.
On the Republican side, one could argue they are masters of intellect for figuring out how fear can be leveraged into a political platform. In their narrowly-focused world of supreme right, they at least focus on one issue – world domination. That’s it. They have not swayed from this stance ever since the Revolutionary War. We won that one, and we can – no, rather, we are required to by God – to win them all. It’s in the bible; Cheney 6:66.
Not only does this include owning everything from the oil fields to the ice caps, but in keeping America physically isolated. I was once in a small town in the Czech Republic, and the homes were all surrounded by high walls. Broken glass lined the top of each wall, just in case anyone tried to climb over. This model has served as the Republican immigration policy.
Yes, world domination is a stupid plan. Liberating/terrorizing Iraq is a stupid plan. George Bush is a stupid man with this stupid plan. Yet we keep voting him in. This, I find, is not only embarrassing to the Democratic party, but clearly illustrates how their little minds haven’t figured out how to kill a dead elephant. Their guns are loaded, they have them pointed at the immobile beast, and they pull the trigger and poo comes out.
For starters, in the last two elections, the Democrats have faced George W. Bush. In the 2004 election, Bush’s approval ratings were so insanely abysmal that even a block of wood could have won. In 2000, Bush’s first run, we probably didn’t fully realize how moronic he is, so the Democrats might have needed something with a tad more substance to win the election. A toaster would have sufficed.
But, no, they gave us Al Gore – a self-indulgent, pompous, windbag block of wood – and John Kerry – a rich, pretentious block of wood from the palace of Massachusetts. Having grown up in Massachusetts, and having done a quite a bit of traveling, I realize that most of the United States hates Massachusetts. Justified or not, it doesn’t matter. It’s candidates are boring (Kerry), have 18 wives (Mitt Romney), have unbelievable first names (Mitt Romney), have more money then Iowa (Mitt Romney), or believe on taking their date for a swim off a bridge (Ted Kennedy).
Bottom line for the Democrats is if they want to win an election, they must have a candidate who follows NASCAR.
I did accomplish a 2008 New Year’s Resolution, which was to watch the entire Daytona 500. I am not a NASCAR fan; not in the least, but it is something I can put on my résumé. During the four hours of motoring, the commentators did a lot of yippin’ and yee-hawin.’ I now understood what wins elections – gophers.
You see, they had this little cartoon gopher who would pop up from the screen from a cartoon hole. His name is Digger, and he wears cartoon goggles, and as the real-life race cars come varooming across the screen, he animatedly panics and ducks back into his hole. The commentators – grown men – all would giggle with glee and say things like “look out, Digger!” or “uh-oh! Digger better git movin’!”
NASCAR, apparently, is aimed at the 8-12 year-old market. More accurately, the American public has been conditioned to act like 8-12 year olds who are (a) into world domination and (b) not into blocks of wood or toasters.
The learning point for the Democrats is to ditch Obama and Clinton, and get a cartoon gopher. McCain wouldn’t stand a chance. Just imagine the debate:
John McCain: “I learned about integrity from Viet Nam..and courage…and the American dream can only be fulfilled with a strong sense of family…and frozen potato-type products…”
Digger: “Woo-hoo! Carburetor!”
Gopher 1, McCain 0.
Think about it – would a gopher take the rubber strainer at the bottom of the urinal and run it through the industrial dishwasher of a restaurant, the very same dishwasher used to wash the dishes the customers eat off of? Would a gopher use cooking tongs, the very same cooking tongs used to cook steaks, to pick up the strainer from the urinal and place in the dishwasher? I think not. And the lesson here is to not only to never, ever eat in a restaurant employed with teenagers, but we know this shit happens and we keep going to the same restaurant.
We know all these candidates are moral felons. Seriously. They exploit the taxpayer’s dollars, waste our time, lie about themselves and each other; they snipe and bitch and pretend, pretend, and fucking pretend to be someone they are not. They market themselves. And marketing, as you should know, is a bunch of lies conceived to get us to buy something. The harder one markets, the bigger piece of crap they are trying to sell.
There is very little integrity, just pontifications and the proper words a speech writer figured out we would latch onto. Anyone buying into their cocked rhetoric is washing their hands in the urinal. And some of us are eating from it, too.
That said, I voted for Walter Mondale.
There, I admitted it. It’s like going to confession and telling the priest you take steak out of the trash – the one that originally fell on the floor - and put it back on the restaurant grill because you were one short.
Now, to be honest, I was very young, and did not know Walter all that well, and he was probably a crook like the rest of them. But he seemed like a decent guy. His opposition was the dreaded Ronald Reagan, who at the time, was universally hated by anyone under 25, including gophers. But I did not vote for Mondale in order to vote against his opposition, I voted for Mondale the Man, Mondale the Marauder, Mondale the...well, loser.
He did not stand a chance. He lost against Reagan (evil triumphs), 42 million electoral votes to 13. Jello Biafra, of the Dead Kennedys, went on to include him in a monologue, saying that “Mondale” would be a great name for a band. Walter had to feel humiliated; worst landslide in presidential election history, and the only one paying him tribute is someone called Jello from band named after Massachusetts (ack!) politicians.
I don’t even feel like we have a Mondale. Or even a toaster. That makes me sad.
We – the American public – have already voted in actors, sports figures, and a “professional” wrestler. Because we recognized their brand name. Ask Jesse Ventura. Nice work, Minnesota (home to Walter Mondale, coincidentally).
All because we have to vote for someone, right? Because we – for whatever reasons – don’t want to spend the time and effort supporting someone we believe in, no matter what little chance they stand. Whether a president or town council, senator to school board, it’s so much easier to sit idly every four years, complain, and then vote in the lesser of a thousand corpses. Frankly, I get tired into buying in the pre-selections. I, too, am guilty of being politically nonchalant and inactive, of whining (see previous one million words). But my complacency does not require me to vote for someone who is a tool, and I don’t feel the least bit guilty or un-American in ignoring my privilege. It’s my privilege to not vote for a jerk. I refuse to vote for idiots, liars, and thieves.
Bu that’s fine. The next election will be upon us before we realize, and I am sure we will get someone with a trace of integrity.
OK, America. Time to get jiggy. Will Smith, 2012.
She walked in and saw the urinal.
“What is that?” she inquired
“That’s a special sink,” I replied, with the appropriate amount of confident enthusiasm.
“A special sink for what?”
“Well, some men are prone to dry skin, so this sink has water which is rich in minerals to help add moisture.” I flushed (the urinal, not me) for effect.
“Then what’s that?” she asked, pointing at the little deodorant cake sitting in the basin of the urinal.
“That’s a special abrasive soap used for removing the dead skin.”
I could sense her disbelief, so I added “Mr. Carrier uses it all the time.” Mr. Carrier was one of the restaurant managers.
“Ohhhhh. I didn’t know that.”
Satisfied, the tour ended. When Mr. Carrier arrived, Cheri asked him about his hands. Mr. Carrier was bit perplexed that anyone would think he washed his hands in a urinal.
Anyway, the point of is to highlight the similarities between this story and the current presidential brouhaha.
The American public is represented by Cheri – easily led, easily amused, easily easy. I represented the presidential candidates – I make stuff up and Americans blindly buy in. Based on the current crop of candidates, we Americans have been fooled to wash our hands in the urinal. Over and over again.
I have never seen so many Democrats and Republicans unsure and uncommitted of their candidates. The hopefuls are too black, too female, or not evil enough. And they all are incompetent to run the country.
Now, perhaps, if I were a woman, I would vote for Clinton (either the woman-Clinton or the limelight-hogging, womanizing bastard-version; I have trouble at times deciding who the real candidate is). If I were black, it could be enough reason to vote for Obama or possibly Will Smith (except he’s white). If I were into frozen potatoes, McCain might be my man. If I were a sex offender, my vote goes to Nader (OK, so maybe Ralph isn’t really a sex offender, but he looks like one).
I fail to mention Huckabee, and not because he dropped out. It’s just that no one in their right mind would vote for anyone named Huckabee. It sounds like a Mississippi-based catfish-only restaurant with special hand-washing urinals.
Speaking of Nader, in the 2000 election, my kids and I started a Ralph Nader web site. We wrote a story about how Nader, upon losing the election, became a tripe salesman in Florida for a Japanese company called the Happy Lucky Sunshine Fun-Time Tripe Company. We noted how he won the coveted salesman of the month award, therefore easing the pain of his most recent election defeat.
We also wrote about how people would fall into the meat processing machines and get grinded into tripe hot dogs and subsequently served to the public.
I am surprised my children are not in prison yet.
Truth be told, politicians and their political parties are idiots. Republicans and Democrats are two very different breeds of idiots, however.
On the Republican side, one could argue they are masters of intellect for figuring out how fear can be leveraged into a political platform. In their narrowly-focused world of supreme right, they at least focus on one issue – world domination. That’s it. They have not swayed from this stance ever since the Revolutionary War. We won that one, and we can – no, rather, we are required to by God – to win them all. It’s in the bible; Cheney 6:66.
Not only does this include owning everything from the oil fields to the ice caps, but in keeping America physically isolated. I was once in a small town in the Czech Republic, and the homes were all surrounded by high walls. Broken glass lined the top of each wall, just in case anyone tried to climb over. This model has served as the Republican immigration policy.
Yes, world domination is a stupid plan. Liberating/terrorizing Iraq is a stupid plan. George Bush is a stupid man with this stupid plan. Yet we keep voting him in. This, I find, is not only embarrassing to the Democratic party, but clearly illustrates how their little minds haven’t figured out how to kill a dead elephant. Their guns are loaded, they have them pointed at the immobile beast, and they pull the trigger and poo comes out.
For starters, in the last two elections, the Democrats have faced George W. Bush. In the 2004 election, Bush’s approval ratings were so insanely abysmal that even a block of wood could have won. In 2000, Bush’s first run, we probably didn’t fully realize how moronic he is, so the Democrats might have needed something with a tad more substance to win the election. A toaster would have sufficed.
But, no, they gave us Al Gore – a self-indulgent, pompous, windbag block of wood – and John Kerry – a rich, pretentious block of wood from the palace of Massachusetts. Having grown up in Massachusetts, and having done a quite a bit of traveling, I realize that most of the United States hates Massachusetts. Justified or not, it doesn’t matter. It’s candidates are boring (Kerry), have 18 wives (Mitt Romney), have unbelievable first names (Mitt Romney), have more money then Iowa (Mitt Romney), or believe on taking their date for a swim off a bridge (Ted Kennedy).
Bottom line for the Democrats is if they want to win an election, they must have a candidate who follows NASCAR.
I did accomplish a 2008 New Year’s Resolution, which was to watch the entire Daytona 500. I am not a NASCAR fan; not in the least, but it is something I can put on my résumé. During the four hours of motoring, the commentators did a lot of yippin’ and yee-hawin.’ I now understood what wins elections – gophers.
You see, they had this little cartoon gopher who would pop up from the screen from a cartoon hole. His name is Digger, and he wears cartoon goggles, and as the real-life race cars come varooming across the screen, he animatedly panics and ducks back into his hole. The commentators – grown men – all would giggle with glee and say things like “look out, Digger!” or “uh-oh! Digger better git movin’!”
NASCAR, apparently, is aimed at the 8-12 year-old market. More accurately, the American public has been conditioned to act like 8-12 year olds who are (a) into world domination and (b) not into blocks of wood or toasters.
The learning point for the Democrats is to ditch Obama and Clinton, and get a cartoon gopher. McCain wouldn’t stand a chance. Just imagine the debate:
John McCain: “I learned about integrity from Viet Nam..and courage…and the American dream can only be fulfilled with a strong sense of family…and frozen potato-type products…”
Digger: “Woo-hoo! Carburetor!”
Gopher 1, McCain 0.
Think about it – would a gopher take the rubber strainer at the bottom of the urinal and run it through the industrial dishwasher of a restaurant, the very same dishwasher used to wash the dishes the customers eat off of? Would a gopher use cooking tongs, the very same cooking tongs used to cook steaks, to pick up the strainer from the urinal and place in the dishwasher? I think not. And the lesson here is to not only to never, ever eat in a restaurant employed with teenagers, but we know this shit happens and we keep going to the same restaurant.
We know all these candidates are moral felons. Seriously. They exploit the taxpayer’s dollars, waste our time, lie about themselves and each other; they snipe and bitch and pretend, pretend, and fucking pretend to be someone they are not. They market themselves. And marketing, as you should know, is a bunch of lies conceived to get us to buy something. The harder one markets, the bigger piece of crap they are trying to sell.
There is very little integrity, just pontifications and the proper words a speech writer figured out we would latch onto. Anyone buying into their cocked rhetoric is washing their hands in the urinal. And some of us are eating from it, too.
That said, I voted for Walter Mondale.
There, I admitted it. It’s like going to confession and telling the priest you take steak out of the trash – the one that originally fell on the floor - and put it back on the restaurant grill because you were one short.
Now, to be honest, I was very young, and did not know Walter all that well, and he was probably a crook like the rest of them. But he seemed like a decent guy. His opposition was the dreaded Ronald Reagan, who at the time, was universally hated by anyone under 25, including gophers. But I did not vote for Mondale in order to vote against his opposition, I voted for Mondale the Man, Mondale the Marauder, Mondale the...well, loser.
He did not stand a chance. He lost against Reagan (evil triumphs), 42 million electoral votes to 13. Jello Biafra, of the Dead Kennedys, went on to include him in a monologue, saying that “Mondale” would be a great name for a band. Walter had to feel humiliated; worst landslide in presidential election history, and the only one paying him tribute is someone called Jello from band named after Massachusetts (ack!) politicians.
I don’t even feel like we have a Mondale. Or even a toaster. That makes me sad.
We – the American public – have already voted in actors, sports figures, and a “professional” wrestler. Because we recognized their brand name. Ask Jesse Ventura. Nice work, Minnesota (home to Walter Mondale, coincidentally).
All because we have to vote for someone, right? Because we – for whatever reasons – don’t want to spend the time and effort supporting someone we believe in, no matter what little chance they stand. Whether a president or town council, senator to school board, it’s so much easier to sit idly every four years, complain, and then vote in the lesser of a thousand corpses. Frankly, I get tired into buying in the pre-selections. I, too, am guilty of being politically nonchalant and inactive, of whining (see previous one million words). But my complacency does not require me to vote for someone who is a tool, and I don’t feel the least bit guilty or un-American in ignoring my privilege. It’s my privilege to not vote for a jerk. I refuse to vote for idiots, liars, and thieves.
Bu that’s fine. The next election will be upon us before we realize, and I am sure we will get someone with a trace of integrity.
OK, America. Time to get jiggy. Will Smith, 2012.
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