Here we have arrived, with American voters kidnapped, blindfolded, and sitting at a stone table with a knife to our necks. Inconceivable as it is that we would face the worst choice of candidates since Nixon ran against McGovern (and arguably worse), yet here we are.
One of Ted Cruz’s favorite movies, and mine also, is The Princess Bride. There’s no greater story than true love, except maybe a mutton, lettuce and tomato sandwich, where the mutton is just so…but this is serious business. Picking a president is a stone-faced, sober exercise in civics, so we must not make light of it, especially in these perilous times.
But I can’t help it, because it’s so bad, like the Russian peasants under the Tsar, mordant humor is the only way to avoid despair.
Like Vizzini confronted with a battle of wits, dead-enders like me ask “For the country? To the death? I accept.”
The battle begins: Where is the poison? The odorless, tasteless, instantly-dissolving Iocane powder that is one of the more deadly poisons known to man is somewhere. It ends when we choose a president in November.
But it’s so simple. All I have to do is divine from what I know of the candidates: Would you put the poison into his own party or his enemy’s?
Hillary Clinton is facing possible indictment–she should have been indicted a year ago–for careless and wanton mishandling of classified information, over and over again. She has told the truth about as often as Amtrak arrives on time.
Donald Trump is facing a disastrous civil lawsuit for racketeering and fraud with Trump University. He has repeatedly lent his name to questionable and losing propositions, from Trump Steaks to vitamins of unknown potency. He has spun more tales about his business enterprises than Hemingway wrote about the sea. The truth about Trump eludes Trump like the roadrunner from the coyote.
Now, a clever party would put the poison into their own candidate, because they would know that only a great fool would vote for what he was given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the candidate in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool and would have counted on it. So I can clearly not choose the candidate in front of me.
You say, “So you’ve made your decision then?”
Because Clinton is a friend to Muslims and supporters of Hamas and the PLO. She regularly reads the anti-Semitic rantings of self-hating Jews such as Max Blumenthal. Her closest aide, Huma Abedin, is rumored to be a Saudi spy (according to Trump hit man Roger Stone). The Democrats have booed God and rejected Israel.
But Donald Trump is supported by a cadre of virulent anti-Semites who call Jews “kikes” and make remarks about “the ovens are waiting for you” online. Even though Trump’s own daughter Ivanka is a converted Jew, they continue to hear their man’s dog whistles. Trump claimed he would be “a neutral guy” regarding Israel.
Because anti-Semitism comes from the devil, and as everyone knows the devil trusts nobody, as you are not trusted by me, so I can clearly not choose the candidate in front of you.
You say: “Truly, you have a dizzying intellect.”
“Wait till I get going? Where was I?”
Yes, anti-Semitism. And you must have suspected I would have known its origin, so I can clearly not choose the candidate in front of me.
You say: “You’re just stalling now. NeverTrump is dead.”
“YOU’D LIKE TO THINK THAT, WOULDN’T YOU?”
Clinton is exceptionally strong with women. That’s what she has–the “woman card.” Her cisgender, birth gender, biological plumbing, what have you. It’s historic that a person with a uterus and no penis is now the nominee for a major national party. The press is in tears, beyond thrilled.
Trump is exceptionally persuasive, having conned so many out of so much. He is the anti-politically-correct candidate, who says things everyone thinks everyone else is thinking. He’s beyond sin, needing no repentance before man or God.
You’ve beaten the socialist giant, so you could’ve put the poison in your own candidate, trusting on her feminine strength to save you, so I can clearly not choose the candidate in front of you. But, you’ve also bested my Cubans–Cruz and Rubio–which means you must have studied, and in studying you must have learned that man is mortal, so you would have put the poison as far from yourself as possible, so I can clearly not choose the candidate in front of me.
You say, “You’re trying to trick me into giving away something. It won’t work.”
“IT HAS WORKED! YOU’VE GIVEN EVERYTHING AWAY!”
Bill Clinton sullied an intern’s dress in the Oval Office and his wife forgave him. Donald Trump remarked how twelve-year-old Paris Hilton was so beautiful then later watched her adult sex tape with his now-wife Melania. Both of them have morals somewhere beneath Fagin from Oliver Twist and Lili Von Shtupp from Blazing Saddles (“I’m tired!”).
“Let’s drink. Me from my glass, and you from yours.”
You say: “You guessed wrong.”
“You only think I guessed wrong!”
You fool! You fell victim to one of the classic blunders! The most famous is never get involved in a land war in Asia, but only slightly less well known is this: never go in against a loudmouth and a sleaze when death is on the line! Ha ha ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha…
They are both poison. And every day that goes by brings us one day closer to the day of decision between two poisonous cups. That’s dead serious.