Beau Elliot
So, it’s been a crazy season, right? And it’s only just begun. (There’s a song in there somewhere.)
No, not the baseball season. Baseball is always crazy; it violates every postulation Descartes ever thought of and most of the ones he didn’t.
No, we’re talking the U.S. national pastime. What’s that you say? The NFL? You gibe. You’re cute when you gibe. Sort of.
The time is long past from when the NFL was the national pastime. Especially now that the NFL has a drooling clown from the Andromeda stain trying to run things.
(Recently, we’ve had a run of refugees from the Andromeda stain trying to run things. You notice?)
No, the new American national pastime is watching politicians stumble and claw their way to some cherished chalice or the White House, whichever comes first. It should be the new hot reality TV show.
OK, you’re right; it is the new hot reality TV show. Where else could you get the Hillary and the Bernie, the Trumpster and the Cruzing for a Bruising, and some random guy named John. Apparently, to have a real reality TV show, you have to have some random guy named John, preferably from one of those states always mixed up with Iowa and Idaho. Luckily, America seems to have an endless supply of those kind of random guys.
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On the Democratic side, Hillary Clinton seems to have prevailed in the stumbling and clawing and is now marching serenely toward Philly. Although, outside of the Middle East, the City of Brotherly Love is about the last place I’d want to be serene in. I mean, fans in Philly once booed Santa Claus at an NFL game. And threw snowballs at him.
Sorry, Bernie fans. Although he and his campaign always reminded me of Eugene McCarthy’s in 1968: really smart, lefty-liberal white candidate with a great cause who couldn’t attract minority voters. Democrats live or die with minority and female voter turnout. ’Nuff said.
And also, you don’t lay off hundreds of campaign staffers, as Sen. Bernie Sanders did, if you’re gearing up for a charge down the home stretch, you lay off hundreds of staffers if you’re more or less facing the Alamo syndrome.
What in the world is the Alamo syndrome? you ask. That’s when you’re going to be overwhelmed, but you’re also going to become a historical landmark.
You may scoff, but becoming a historical landmark is a better fate than being overwhelmed and becoming Harold Stassen.
Harold who? you ask.
Exactly.
On the GOP side, Donald Trump is blowing hard (which is not to say that he’s a blowhard, necessarily), and the Stop Trump movement seems to be on life support, with the green line inching (millimetering?) toward flat.
Of course, the Stop Trump movement is led by Texas Sen. Ted Cruz and some random guy named John, and so, it figures. If Cruz had led the Americans in their fight against the Mexican army in the mid-1800s, Texas would still be part of Mexico. Some of us could only have hoped.
Trump, on the other hand, was the target of the week’s best line — “There’s one area where Donald’s experience could be invaluable, and that’s closing Guantanámo. Because Trump knows a thing or two about running waterfront properties into the ground.” — President Obama
So, we’ll have Hillary Clinton versus Donald Trump, or Marie Antoinette versus Genghis Khan.
Talk about reality, TV.
