99 Problems: Dunce Dunce Revolution

Oy. What hath Palin wrought, you know? It was bad enough we had this belligerent nitwit dumped on us, but now her ideological gender-mates are cropping up hither and sometimes yon. And they are bad enough in the sense that you don't even need to go into their politics or positions (since none of them are willing to discuss their actual ideas anyway). They're just ridiculous people to begin with.

I don't care that Christine O'Donnell may or may not have "dabbled" in "witchcraft" (which was probably a bullshit embellishment of her being a hanger-on to either Dungeons and Dragons nerds or headbanger poseurs in the first place). The concern is that she has yet to articulate a position on anything; she apparently seriously believes she'll just waltz into Capitol Hill with a Ginsu pen and cut spending as far as the eye can see.

Of course, she's never held a real job either, not one that requires reporting to a boss and justifying your continued existence. So much for this simplistic "I'm you" crap. An even bigger concern is that she has spent her entire adult life campaigning against fairly routine things like masturbation. I don't know what to make of a person who fails to recognize biology for what it is.

Then there's Sharron Angle, Nevada's crazy cat lady, minus the cats. As with O'Donnell, it's not the actual politics (because again, Flying Spaghetti Monster forbid that they actually talk about what they do and how they plan to do it), so much as the basic notion that a person who campaigns against black football jerseys on religious grounds is simply mentally unstable, and probably shouldn't be trusted with more than a three-figure budget.

So beyond politics, there's just sheer intellectual quackery, not to mention dishonesty. And then there's eMeg Whitman, supposedly more reputable and legitimate, by virtue of her awesome bidness experience. But this is someone who has built a personal fortune on insider trading and opportunities, situations that, legal or not, are denied to 99.9% of all other human beings on the planet, period.

And really, how great of a businessperson are you when you blow an eighth of a billion dollars of your own money to be governor of California, a job sure to be as thankless and winless as head coach of the Oakland Raiders? Especially since, for all the high-dollar media blitzes she bought, Whitman is running maybe neck-and-neck with Jerry Brown, who has spent dick on his campaign, and waited until after Labor Day to even bother advertising (as it should be).

But the first rule of politics is, don't spend your own money. Yes, yes, throwing your own cash in presents the veneer of incorruptibility, but as Jesse Unruh famously said, if you can't take thier money, drink their whiskey, fuck their women, and still vote against them the next day, you don't belong there.

This is the level of incompetence I'm supposed to elect as governor? Why not just re-elect Schwarzenegger as goobernator for life and have done with it? At least Ahnult is occasionally entertaining; the best we'll get from eMeg -- before she inevitably jumps to be running mate to Mitt Romney's '12 Magic Underwear campaign -- is an occasional update on her evil snowboarder son. Frankly, just naming a kid "Griff Harsh V" -- yes, the fucking fifth, goddammit -- is a sign of epically poor judgment.

People, I'm tellin' ya, we gotta start judging people on intangibles, if they refuse to give us tangibles. As tempted as I am to let them choke on their own fumes o' stupid, this teabagger shit, it does no one any good -- except, of course, their corporate benefactors.

Not to implicitly support the hoary notion of smoke-filled backroom deals, but the idea that politics is best served by installing complete neophytes is dangerously stupid. Sure, we've railed against stupid, gutless compromises in the past, because such creatures deserve to be called what they are. But politics is, in the end, the art of reasonable compromise, and adding bozos like these to the mix just makes a toxic pot more so.

Part of me hopes the retards get what they think they want, just to watch them twist in the wind. After all, their moron bullshit won't affect me, not for a long time, by which point I'm sure (wishful thinking) I'll be just another flatulent gazillionaire. Let these Scrooge McDuck wannabes hoist themselves on their dull fantasies of striking it rich with whatever nose gold they can dig out, and devil take the hindmost. It'd be worth it just to watch their state-subsidized Rascals re-appropriated. Fuck 'em.

The problem is, no matter how iconoclastic I am temperamentally, I still trust and believe in the Scottish Enlightenment ideals of what this nation was supposed to be, what it still should and could be if even fifteen percent got their fucking shit together and brought the wood to the dipshits currently poisoning the discourse.

Teabaggers are certainly not a "populist" movement, not in the conventional sense, and its backers do not represent the best interests of its participants, pure and simple. Only in America could a cokehead morning zoo deejay -- who was so spiritually empty that he and his wife converted to Mormonism after shopping around (if only they had found magic applesauce before the magic underwear) -- print money selling easily disproved lies to addled dipshits.

Not all of these assholes will win, but the fact that any of them are even in the running, as if "throw the bums out" suddenly translated into "find the dumbest motherfucker you can", should be warning enough.