New Hampshire: Not Important Very Often.

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I’ve been watching American Presidential elections with the single mindedness of three-pouch-a-day Tang addict since 1992. In that time, I have become really, really tired of New Frikkin’ Hampshire. Seriously – the Granite State primaries can drink plumbing seepage as far as this impartial and aloof commentator is concerned.

Plumbing seepage with a skin on it…

Otherwise, I like New Hampshire. As a Canadian, I find the lack of sales tax both delightful and a little creepy. However, once every four years this little bump of a state becomes the center of the electoral universe and the only fuel in the tank of the 24/7 Cable News Hole.

The worst part of all of this is that New Hampshire is not always a key to victory, except when it is. It’s true that almost every candidate who wins Iowa and New Hampshire usually wins the nomination; but let’s think about that bit of greasy wisdom for a second: if you win the first two elections, your chances of winning more of them are very good.

It should be noted that if you fall down two stairs, you may roll down all of them. Thanks, Gandalf.

You SHALL NOT PASS!! Sorry.

So New Hampshire is really the key to an area adjacent to the kingdom – remember that girl from high school with the really big boobs that you wanted to fu…ahem…to date? Well, New Hampshire is her pal with bad hair and orthopedic sweaters who tells her that you have head lice.

Both the Democrats and the Republicans will go forward regardless of what happens in New Hampshire, and they will probably do so in basically the same order that they entered. But since I’m feeling tricky, let’s break this down so you know what I knew would happen before it did.

I guess I should finish this before the polls close.

1. Barack Obama will win New Hampshire by about 10 points as everyone predicted (or not). Upon winning, Senator Obama will give a speech about change and hope. We hope for change, and we change so that we might hope. We hope that the attention span of the voters does not change or else Mr. Obama may need to eventually have a point. Soon after this speech he will repair broken watches with a smile, make sweet love to both Oprah and Dr. Phil and then get to work on finishing the Grand Unified Theory before midnight. Remember, if you vote for Obama, you will no longer need yeast or sugar to make bread. Yes Jim, he is that good.

2. Hillary Clinton will lose and not understand why New Hampshire humans persist in not voting for her like she told them. Hillary Clinton will declare that she is on the comeback trail even if she loses by 32 points, her headquarters burn down and former President Bubba has an act of carnal knowledge with a wedding cake during her time at the podium.

3. John Edwards will tell you a very sad story about someone who died, followed up by a heartening tale of pithy survival about someone who also died, but voted for John Edwards before they did. He will also explain why he hates corporations – in a fit of confusion, Mr. Edwards will beat his pharmacist with a club.

4. Bill Richardson will negotiate with himself.

On the Dark Side;

1. John McCain will win by three or four points (or not) and claim that he is back on the rise while he fires up the Straight Talk Express into three States that he cannot possibly win.

2. Mittens “Mitt” Romney will not win, but he will sell you shingles that tell you that he did. He’ll also explain that everyone is out to get him and that despite being an awful automaton bred with well-coiffed rodents, that you should make him your first entirely synthetic President.

3. Mike Huckabee will do better than expected and his speech will consist of nothing more than Chuck Norris doing 67 year old spin kicks while the former Arkansas Governor plays Black Dog on the bass guitar. One or both of them may be nude. Neither of them will realize how lame it is to have Chuck Norris on your side.

4. Ron Paul’s supporters, regardless of the outcome will continue to scamper around scaring the hell out of everyone like the vomiting zombies from 28 Days Later.

Good for them.

So long, New Hampshire. Hopefully my resentment will have cooled by 2012. But don’t bet on it.

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Mitt Romney Destroys America!!!

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This is almost something I never do – I’m going to write about something that happened today. I know how you feel…I was surprised too.

Consider it an early Christmas present. Or consider it a pre-Triassic mammal that looks like a hamster but has a really impressive name like verymightyandvirilehampsteradon.

It’s really up to you.

Mitt “Mittens” Romney delivered a speech today in which he hoped to dispel the fears of non Mormon Christians by not talking about the fact that he is a Mormon. This is very much like what I do when my daughter asks me where I’m going as I sneak outside to smoke.

“Daddy, where are you going?”

“Hey Look! Dora is on!”

This works pretty well for now, but I obviously need to quit smoking.

In the same vein it is widely perceived (especially by Governor Romney’s pollsters) that many fundamentalist Christians have concerns about the specific differences of the Mormon Church. Can this speech allay their fears?”

So Mittens says, “Freedom requires religion.”

Wait…what?

Freedom requires religion? Freedom REQUIRES religion? Freedom frikkin’ requires frikkin’ religion!?!

Religion requires freedom in order to be practiced and this is a no-brainer that most people respect without much in the way of an argument. Not that there aren’t people who don’t agree, but instead of forming a carefully worded explanation, they explode. Or they turn into Christopher Hitchens. (Ha! Irony!)

I understand that is just pandering to religious conservatives and Baptist hair engineers. However, when a person states that religion is a necessity for a civil society, I’m inclined to gag.

Gagging requires inclination…no scratch that, gagging is a reflex.

The last time freedom required religion was back when the Catholic Church owned all the printing presses and wouldn’t let anyone learn to read Latin. Wait…that doesn’t sound right.

That must be because it’s wrong. Of course, so is Mittens.

On its face, what Mittens said is like stating that we must have diapers in order to have shit.

Personally, I only need diapers when I want to feel extra confident around the office, but that’s not the point.

Freedom comes first in the order of things, not religion. Humans have appetites: we want things. Be it personal safety, personal expression, chili fries or the completely denuded skull of Ben Affleck, we are creatures who seek out goals that we perceive to be good. This applies to very high minded things like universal human equality, but it also applies to having shiny, moistened gherkins slowly inserted into our nostrils by a prostitute. It also applies to religion and wanting to be President.

Freedom is nothing more or less than the ability to pursue these goals unimpeded. It’s basic, it’s primeval and it comes well before things like ladders, rain coats, tacos, accounting tables and anyone’s belief in any god. Religion is not a prerequisite for freedom; it is just an expression of freedom. Civil society and the application of freedom are the best things that ever happened to religion.

So, I would argue (and I would win) that religion is closer to the hooker with the glistening nose gherkin than it is to one of the basic engines of human nature such as the freedom of the individual.

I guess it probably doesn’t need to be pointed out that when Mittens says ‘religion or ‘faith’ what he likely means is ‘Christianity as practiced by those who can vote’. This is all about how Mittens is not a weirdo because he’s a Mormon, and that ‘regular’ Christians should just still vote for him. (As opposed to Democrat Mike Gravel, who is a weirdo because he eats urinal cakes…)

If he were really talking about no faith in particular then I think that he would also be a liar. Do we think that Mittens finds Islam, Wicca, Christianity and Norse polytheism to be equally vital to the continued existence of freedom?

If so, I’m assuming he’d appoint a Supreme Court Justice who wanted to swear his oath while holding a replica of Odin’s eye patch.

Does religion remain necessary to freedom if it promotes violence?

Does religion remain necessary to freedom when it discriminates?

Does a lame, church-pandering, politically calculated speech by Mitt and his Important Hair warrant this much bitching and moaning on my part?

Actually it does.

In the practice of moderate and reasonable people, religion is just dandy even if I disagree with the premise. Heck, in some hands, religion is genuinely noble. But if freedom requires religion then your government needs religion to keep you free. If your government has religion then the one freedom it can never give you is freedom from religion, and that pretty much rips the guts out of your freedoms entirely. So really, as far as government is concerned, the only thing that freedom needs is for someone like Mittens to leave you alone.

Now get those pickles out of your nose, you pervert.

Oh yeah, Mittens? Please shut the hell up.

 

 

 

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I Watched It, Now You Read It.

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I’ve again spent a Sunday watching Meet the Press and This Week – but I’m okay, thanks for asking. I did not watch Face the Nation since I live in constant fear of Bob Schieffer telling his story about how he dated Lee Harvey Oswald’s mom.

In an ongoing an attempt to drive me mad, Tim “Big Potatoes” Russert is interviewing another candidate for the 2008 Presidential election. In this instance, it is the ever more puzzling Fred Thompson. Now Fred has roughly the same chance of becoming President as former slugger Mookie Wilson, but I guess it’s easier for Russert and crew to interview an also-ran than discuss any actual news.

I don’t know if Mookie Wilson really was a slugger, but next to Ickey Woods, he has the best name in sports history.

Fred waited about 12 years between hinting that he would run, and actually announcing it. Now we can see why; the man is exhausted. While being grilled by Tim (speaking of which, I bet Russert and Thompson could do well at an all-you-can-eat rib dinner), Fred honestly seemed as if he could not care less. Maybe he’s on medication, maybe he was up all night giving Sam Waterston tips on scowling but he was pretty sedate through this appearance. I’m not entirely sure, but maybe I like this.

A disinterested man is probably a man too hard to corrupt or co-opt. Fred has an aide with a conviction for a drug crime. Fred doesn’t care – in the most sincere statement in this campaign, he just really doesn’t care; “he’s my pal, he’ll remain my pal…did your producer said that I would get a mug? “

As President, he’ll get done precisely what he needs to and not one more damn thing. Now I’m sure – that does appeal to me. A guy worried about getting the day done by 2pm will not start a war. Those late night sessions in the Situation Room are just too much work for President Fred.

The second half of the show was then devoted to Tom Brokaw, and Potatoes spent a great deal of time fawning over Tom’s book about Baby Boomers. Brokaw had already written a volume on the Greatest Generation and now he’s on to this. In a few months he’ll issue a volume on guys who are frightened of geese.

This Week had former senator John Edwards, who seems like a genuinely nice man – but most charming, vote-wanting rich guys do. I’ll make a bold prediction now and bet that come January of 2009, President Edwards will be settling in at whatever huge corporation places him at the head of their board. I was very interested to hear what Edwards had to say since he’s stalled in the polls, but that changed and within about thirteen seconds as his Carolina drawl rendered me insensible, having shut down my entire nervous system. Soon, I sat pith-eyed and wondered how much John Edwards and George Stephanopoulos, combined, spend on hair conditioner.

Really, it was all I can do to remember anything other than the commercial that split Edwards’ interview; Flomax.

Flomax – unless you’re a woman who is pregnant or may become pregnant – helps you pee. Other than that, I can’t distinguish between these ads and the ads for power-washing attachments for the garden hose.

There’s an odd and vaguely troubling equivalence in these ads being manliness and how well you shake the dew off of the lily. There are genuine medical conditions that I’m sure need to be taken care of, but when did “stream strength” get added to the list?

Short of saying “Hey, Mr. Pissy Pants!” this commercial really avoids any attempt at either subtlety or dignity. Replete with pictures of happy and vigorous men doing manly things and ALWAYS holding ninety-seven ounce beverages, the message of this add is clear:

Unless you are a four-year old sissy girl, you should be able to drink a Dr. Pepper of the same volume as a Panamax oil tanker and watch 11 NFL games back to back.

When you finally release the precious contents of your vault-like bladder, if your urine is not flying out in such a mad torrent that you are aggressively chipping away at porcelain with industrial force, then you sir, are simply not up to snuff. You and your fragile, meek trickle of non-masculine urine are a dead give away that you don’t make enough money, that your wife is not satisfied with your mojo and, by the way, your accountant told me over coffee that he just thought you were ‘maybe kind of gay’. You know that thing in Ghostbusters where you couldn’t cross the streams? Well, it turns out that you can.

Flomax knows. Your friends are laughing at you.

That was my Sunday morning – pity me.

 

 

 

 

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You’ll Never Read This.

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There’s great sanctity for free speech in my house. Well, at least in my house when I’m alone because the lovely and erudite Mrs. Sinister has a long list of things I can’t say in front of the kids. Oddly, many of the prohibited phrases have her as their subject.

But barring this, and my X-rated poetry about Brit TV chef Nigella Lawson, we hold the tenet of free expression in high regard. Among consenting adults very little is too offensive, too risqué, too inflammatory or too obviously naughty to be censored.

This protection does not extend to things that are too boring. I will vociferously defend your right to claim that you should be permitted to form amorous relations with Hoffmann’s Two-Toed Sloth. However, if you bore me while doing it, I’ll plant you in the muck like a gangland snitch.

Despite my best intentions and several hours mumbling to myself at the mall I have violated this first principle of not being exceptionally boring.

What I mean by this is that I have decided to write about Canadian politics. I can actually hear you leaving through my interweb tubes…come back! I can be funny and write about Canadian politics!

Hey guess what? The Prime Minister farted! He farted in the Privy Council! Isn’t that hilarious? In the Privy Council? Privy…he did it in the Privy Council…that’s like a joke…sort of. Damn it.

Anyway, this past week had by-elections for three seats in the federal Parliament from the province of Québec. It occurs to me that the previous sentence is about ten hours worth of civics lessons for many of you but these elections were somewhat important. At very least they were indicative. So are plague buboes, incidentally.

Canada has generationally swung back and forth between the Liberal Party of Canada and the subtly unnerving synthesis party that is now simply known as the Conservative Party of Canada. It’s like The Blob in navy blue suits.

Since 1900, the Liberals have been the most successful elected, national political party in the world. They win and they win a lot. The Conservatives in their various forms have only elected two Prime Ministers into office with majorities since 1958. When this last happened in 1984, they went from the biggest electoral win ever to the new leader losing all but two seats and locking herself in the bathroom with a bottle of Jägermeister.

The Conservative Prime Minister, Stephen Harper is, according to his wife, and early Soong-type android. Stéphane Dion (yes, he’s Céline’s dad) is the current leader of the Liberals, who are in the Official Opposition against the Conservative Party who form the government with the most seats in Parliament, but not a majority of them.

This happens, because unlike the US, we have more than two parties. To be fair, these extra parties are probably kidding and just don’t have the heart to tell us despite the fact that many people vote for them. However, they do keep the Grits and the Tories (a reader from Kentucky just died) from forming the majority needed to guarantee a full, five-year term. There has been no serious prospect for a majority government since 2000, when the two conservative parties got tired of polling each other’s electorate.

So this by-election thingy is a big deal. Any shift in electability puts the political class on election watch. Ever see the sleazy guys at a bar watching the girls drink in hopes that they will get so gooned that they put out? It’s exactly (and I mean exactly!) like that.

The province of Québec is a mystical land full of highways and things near highways. This at least is my experience driving through it. Québec is also French, and French is Serious Business. The Liberals picked Mr. Dion because (it is speculated) he’d win Québec. He’s smart, he’s a gifted policy wonk and he’s very, very Quebecois.

So of course, he lost all three seats. To add insult to injury, they even lost to the New Democratic Party, a group of pseudo-socialists whose official color is orange.

Orange? What were you thinking? How do you vote for orange? The NDP claim it’s because they, like most of Québec, are against the Afghan War. I think it’s because they handed out free flats of Labatt’s 50 and were secretly funded by the citrus lobby.

So we’re now faced with the specter of another election in which Canada’s leaders will debate about very little, but become animated like greased weasels while doing so. Harper’s sophisticated language software will seem smooth compared to Dion’s broken English and in any French events, it won’t matter because apparently Mr. Dion shares the same level of popularity with head lice.

This is depressing. I should have stuck with fart jokes.

 

 

 

 

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