As Election Super Bowl Tuesday looms, slogans are flooding the airwaves and talking heads jerking off over digital networks. With the side attraction candidates now on the newsunworthy sidelines, it is mano a mano time: Bill-supported Hillary vs. JFK-scent Obama and Admiral Big Mac vs. the Olympics-sized CEO Romney. Tomorrow will show the world just how American democracy works, the electoral college-bound Rube Goldberg contraption that allows pockets of regionally-minded voters, jerry-rigged delegate rules and a last-minute, last-ditch advertizing blitz to masquerade as political choice. Now that the warm-up Iowa Caucus and town meetings of New Hampshire have been proudly displayed as proof we are a nation of concerned voters, the two parties can break out the cigars and place the oil-profit crown on the great hope that promises to deliver the spoils to the White House in November. Politics is the media orgy of our time; we all get drunk with promises and laid on with promises. Not until after we pull the lever will we know that we can’t help puking and ending up with a hangover that lasts about four years. Most of us, so the polls tell us, are still reeling from the last time around.
There are plenty of issues to campaign about. The economy is in the recession-bound Red Zone and most economists think the stimulus packages being thrown up hail-Mary into the air will be dropped in the end. After all we have troops locked into a war that even a troop surge cannot rescue from political stalemate. Take your pick of the non-Pauline candidates, the score will be the same: less money in your wallet and more national debt for being the world’s superpower policeman. Would that we had a silly and totally irrelevant reason to pick candidates, like their stand on gay marriage. That worked like a piece of cake last time. But then that election had two white guys mud wrestling, one a war vet from the wrong color state and the other a family (Bush family that is) man who thought Jesus was the greatest philosopher of all time. Now in the semi-finals we have the kind of diversity that makes you dress for your grandmother’s funeral. The Democrats have a woman (so the opposition can’t be too sexist) and an African American (so the race card has to be hidden under the table); the Republicans have a Mormon (who is a latter day conservative saint) and a suspect conservative maverick (who is as old as Methuselah). Continue reading To Hell with McCain?