new lies / old lies / whose lies
Thursday, March 14, 1996
D'Amato Delivers New York
Dole claims the GOP banner for the World War II generation
"Trust me. I know what I'm doing."
- Sledge Hammer
Right! That's what my editor said when he suggested I smuggle myself aboard Forbes' chartered "Simpsons" airliner. I'm stowed away with the victory supplies, surviving on caviar, cognac, and Cuban cigars. While I make breakfast out of one of these Russian Easter Eggs, I'll explain why it will be a while before they unlock the hatch.
Dole is running this railroad. Coming out of Jr. and Sr. Super Tuesday with a clean sweep, Dole's got himself a private car. Al D'Amato is running the engine and Texas Governor George W. Bush, son of former President Bush, is backing him up as fireman. Bob, running as the anti-Buchanan candidate, will get the nomination - but just running against Buchanan doesn't beat Clinton. Hopefully his campaign has a better plan than simply running as a liberal.
Forbes is holding onto the caboose for dear life. He tries to snag one drunk New York delegate who staggered to the end of the train. Al D'Amato appears and leads the delegate back to the Dole car. Steve has realized that not only does he not want to be a politician, he doesn't even want to be around them. He'll go to the convention and won't shut up until there is a flat-tax plank in the platform.
Buchanan, much like the Zulu during the Zulu Wars, has wrapped himself tightly in the Confederate flag and is taking 45-caliber bullets to the body - but keeps coming. Pat hopes to pick up some delegates in California and the northern industrial states. No doubt he'll be at the convention with enough pitchforks to get some attention.
Keyes is in the dining car explaining the rather obscure rules of his hunger strike to his new-found friends in the media. Between bites of sirloin, he explains, "No fluids. That's the main thing."
Alexander and Lugar threw themselves off the train as it was pulling out of Atlanta. Lamar and Dick almost came to blows over who would kiss Dole's ass first. Only Gramm's seniority kept the peace.
Taylor got off as the train went though New York. Morry, despite his opinion of the current candidates, realized he's a lot better businessman than he is a politician.
Dornan didn't even show up at the station. He's been declared a "three-day no-show" and dismissed. Bob, having mistaken this for a California Senate race, is keeping his mouth shut to avoid further embarrassment.
Gramm is home with his feet up to the fireplace enjoying the company of his dog. (Don't even think about it!) His wife is rubbing his feet. By the way, here's a simple trick to tell Gramm and Dole apart when they campaign together: Gramm always stands to the right of Dole.
Ross Perot pulls alongside the train in his convertible Eldorado with the bull-horns hood ornament and cowhide seat covers. He faces the train and shouts, "I know you're in there Buchanan. You stay away from my voters. They're mine. You hear me? I'm telling you they're mine!"
The crazy aunt stands up in the back seat. Her manacles clink and clang as she shakes a bony finger at Forbes. "And you too, sonny. My nephew didn't inherit his business, right? So you keep your hands off his voters."
Dole's remaining rivals, swearing "it's not over 'til it's over," leave New York empty-handed and head for the debate in Dallas. Dole doesn't do Dallas.
Buchanan takes the first potshot at his old friend "Beltway Bob" calling Dole "our fugitive candidate." Keeping with his "I'm Ronald Reagan" strategy, Pat calls for the restoration of Star Wars.
Keyes, in an attempt to pick up fringe votes, declares himself a Trekkie.
A reporter with more liberal platitudes than common sense asks, "What experience do a magazine publisher, a television commentator, and a radio talk-show host have for being president?"
Keyes, a man who makes his living eating liberals like a sideshow geek eats chickens, shouts, "You lazy, arrogant ignoramus! If you did any research, you'd know I have 'ambassador' in front of my name." As Keyes continues to list his years of experience in government and foreign affairs, he rips the reporter's head off.
Buchanan greets the reporter with "Welcome to Crossfire." He begins by listing his years in the White House and finishes by tearing off the reporter's arms.
Forbes, in soothing tones, begins to explain foreign policy as if to a child. Selecting China as an example, Forbes discusses the proper deployment of military force. Reaching out and savagely breaking the reporter's ankles, Forbes sums up with "and that is how the US should deal with aggression around the world."
Saturday, in the Missouri caucuses, Buchanan surprised everyone (including himself, since he didn't campaign there) by beating Dole. Dole dismissed Missouri as he had Dallas, saying, "If I wasn't there, it doesn't count. How can a candidate win a state without negative commercials and 'push polls?'"
Forbes, after accepting Kemp's half-hearted endorsement, told him not to let his ugly ass darken his campaign doorway again. In a show of support unseen since Benedict Arnold, Kemp offered to shut down the Forbes campaign if Dole would support a flat tax.
Super Tuesday was kind to Bob Dole, giving him 350 of 362 delegates. Dole again suggests his rivals should go home and eat worms, leaving him to battle Clinton in the arena of flipping and flopping.
With the smell of victory in the air, Dole works on his acceptance speech.
"Thank you, fellow moderates. I'd like to welcome my former rivals and their traitorous supporters back into the fold. Forbes and his flat earthers, I mean taxers, are always welcome.
"I extend a hand in peace to my old friend, bitter rival, anti-Semitic, racist, right-wing extremist, xenophobic, misogynist, homophobic, fascist, white supremacist, private-militia-group supporting, gun-control opposing, sexist, a man who hates Jews and blacks, isolationist, arch-conservative, extreme-right Nazi propagandist, anti-abortionist, anti-homosexual, anti-gay, anti-free-trade, anti-big business, anti-Washington establishment, anti-immigrant, fiery populist, fundamentalist Christian, anti-Mexico, Asia-scapegoating, bigot, pundit, abortion foe, national socialist, least palatable candidate, anti-United Nations, anti-NATO, unelectable feisty right-wing economic hard line nationalist, protest candidate, Nazi war criminal defending, supply-side economist, (did I mention anti-Semitic?), conservative commentator Pat Buchanan and his pitchfork-armed peasants."
Outside a convention hall in San Diego, a group of peasants continue to sharpen their pitchforks.
Corrections to last week's column:
- The WWF denies sponsoring the South Carolina debate, but has invited Forbes and Alexander to the next Wrestlemania.
- The Dole campaign insists the adrenaline injections are not experimental.
Next week's episode: "Dole: Is that victory I smell or did I step in something?" or "Perot challenges Keyes for last place in Ohio."
I had a great URL but the White House has disabled it. So here's one of my old favorites.
Stop the presses! (I always wanted to say that.)
Unnamed sources in the White House today admitted to a coverup. It seems the Administration is more afraid of a new web site than of the apparent GOP candidate. The new web site, www.whitehouse.net, has become a bigger embarrassment for Clinton than Whitewater. The unnamed source admitted to a continuing war to alias the rogue site to their own web page, www.whitehouse.gov, by "whatever means necessary." The unnamed source also suggested that the announcement today by a well-known radio talkshow host may have caused "the shit to hit the fan."
The Web Walker
new lies / old lies / whose lies
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