It Takes A Village Idiot

Watching last evening’s Republican debate I had the realization that there is one thing I know to a certainty about Republican presidential politics: it’s something, but it isn’t politics. What I don’t know is what the hell exactly it is.

I can say that few things tickle remote and obscure parts of the human brain as much as observing and pondering the metaphysical Silly Putty that is Republican presidential whatever. It is a world of strangeness, disconnections, incongruence, sometimes Dada, sometimes Nada. But fuck me if I understand a bit of it really.

To wit: Mitt Romney said “I will create jobs by cutting the federal workforce by 10%.” This is a serious question by the way: Is Charlie Kauffman writing Mitt Romney’s material for him now? Is there any money in that?

I was impressed by the common sense of Herman Cain. When he said, and I am paraphrasing, that for every woman who had accused him of sexual misconduct thousands hadn’t he was standing on very solid ground. I don’t mind admitting there were times when I was convinced Newt Gingrich is remarkably incisive and highly articulate in a language other than English.

There were Happy Meals and Princess Nancy and General Axelrod, some Republican version of Candy Land best that I could tell. How do you win? I don’t know.

It may have been the mescaline I took halfway through the debate, but when Michele Bachmann offered that we should “legalize” energy production I thought it kind of made sense. Sorry, but the second half of the debate was much, much better for me. I felt centered somehow just listening.

There was never discussion of genuine solutions for the housing problem or health care costs or wage stagnation, which I applaud them for because it’s the kind of demoralizing crap that can totally stomp your buzz.

I feel cheapened even mentioning the name Perry, so inviting is the man’s intelligence to effortless ridicule. In fact, the man makes me so superfluous that when I watch him I feel as though I’m the protagonist in a 19th century Russian novel.

So let me get this straight: one of these people may become president of the United States? I’m not going to threaten to move to France if one of these people wins the presidency. Because it isn’t far enough away.

 

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