Aw shucks. It’s so disappointing. Herman Cain, victim, has dropped out of the race for the GOP presidential nomination, done in by the vast left wing conspiracy. At least they didn’t send the black helicopters for him. Those meanies in the media, by reporting on Mr. Cain, have robbed us all of another golden opportunity. And he’s so qualified too–so well versed in foreign affairs. Shucks, he knows the names of countries I’ve never even heard of, and I actually follow foreign affairs. Like many others, I knew not of Uz Beki Beki Beki Beki Stan Stan until Mr. Cain enlighted us rabble. And his analysis of the Libya situation? A tour de force.
He seemed so respectful of women too. Even gave Nancy Pelosi the honorific of “Princess,” when most republicans are utterly dismissive of her. And when he said that he wouldn’t do anything with her, then leered and repeated that he meant anything, it was obvious he meant that he’d never even consider having sex with her. I’m assuming that meant because he’s so observant of and committed to his marital vows. And those poor deluded women who imagined he’d made passes at them got equally respectful treatment from him and his minions.
Yep, we lost a good ‘un there. But, at least we still have Rick Perry. He’s as well versed in domestic affairs as Mr. Cain is of foreign events. Aren’t we all glad he’s let us know how misinformed we are, thinking that the voting age is 18. Silly us. If he gets the GOP nod, I’ll sure be there on November 12, ready to pull the lever for him.
And, say hallelujah, Newt’s slithered back into our lives, so there’s still something to be grateful for despite the sad loss of the entertaining Mr. Cain as a candidate. My spirits just soared, though, a few days ago when I saw the clips of Newt, with Mr. Cain beaming in the background and Pillsbury Doughboy Frank Luntz either hanging on Newt’s every hiss, uh, I mean word–or possibly telling him what to say as he does for the rest of the GOP public figures who are apparently incapable of formulating simple declarative sentences of their own. That happy occasion was the other day when Newt was dissing the Occupy Wall Street crowd, pulling out an old chestnut from the seventies when he said they should get a job after they go home and take a bath. Yeah, you dirty hippies, forget about social justice, unemployment, corporate abuses and rampant public corruption. It’s none of your business anyway, leave it to the pros like Mr. Gingrich.
And speaking of demonizing, somehow, whenever I see the oh-so-presciently named Newt, I imagine that some evil spirit–Valdemort perhaps?–deciding to incarnate as a human politician. Can’t ya just see it cackling, well, demonically, “And I shall call myself NEWT! And I shall sssslittther! Ah ha ha ha ha ha!”
It’s great to see–and hear–ol’ Newt spitting out hateful stereotypes again and dissing those rascally poor people who never get paid unless it’s for something illegal, and who don’t know what it means to work. It’s music to republican ears. Those slacker poor folks should take a page from Newt’s scam book and start selling bogus awards at $5,000 bucks a pop as he does. That’s legal. Yeah those poor kids he wants to have clean toilets don’t have the habit of hard work that Newt does. It’s obvious from Newt’s trim appearance that he knows what it means to put in a hard day’s labor. But it’s disconcerting to hear that great philosopher and deep thinker Joe Scarborough say that, if you’re in a room and Newt’s the smartest guy in the room, you’re in the wrong room. What could he possibly mean by that? Newt says he’s the smartest guy in the room so often, I’m sure Mr. Scarborough’s just jealous that he can’t attain Newt’s level of shameless self promotion.
Say, didn’t Newt quit in disgrace as Speaker of the House? Maybe he and Sarah Palin would make a good team. Two quitters with huge egos and no sense of propriety–it’s a republican ticket made in Comedy Central heaven.
Gosh, the republican race to the bottom has me on the edge of my seat. Which one of the losers, uh, candidates, will finally become the standard bearer? I was hoping for a Cain/Perry ticket in the general election–mainly because Stephen Colbert and Jon Stewart would have had endless opportunities to make me laugh. The entertainment value of such a pairing would have been the gift that keeps on giving. But, sigh, I guess it’s just not in the cards. Oh, well. Maybe Newt will pick Donald Trump as a running mate and we’ll still have a chance to get a good laugh out of the election.
That’d be a good thing since it’s certain that, no matter who runs or which party wins, we’re not gonna get a good leader in any case.