Bugfuck Old Party

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Memo to the Republican Party: HA HA HA HA HA.

In honor of last night's Republican presidential primary debate, which I'm sure was very calm and reasonable-sounding and full of tough talk and gravitas, I would like to take this moment to remind the Republicans that their slate for '08 is made up almost entirely of crazy drunken uncles.

I don't know who screened these people, but if they were in charge of bouncing at a nightclub, the place would be playing Bing Crosby tunes by 7pm, checking the clientèle for "sleeping or dead" by 9pm, then burning to the ground sometime before midnight. And nobody would know how or why. I mean, so far, you've got:

JOHN McCAIN: Who I've always hated and continue to hate. But lately he's been beyond the pale, which for the GOP is really saying something. The dude is wandering around, filking Beach Boys songs, yelling at people to get a life, and taking a firm stand against gays in the military, apparently under the impression it's 1998. Someone needs to tell the Maverick that we've stopped worrying about how the troops are being fucked and are busy worrying about how the troops are being fucked over.

RUDY GIULIANI: Who just this past week, Vanity Fair reminded the world about a bit on his radio show in 1999 where he goes off on a ferret owner. And there are reports that, one of the various times he got all dolled up in a dress for some event, he caught a glimpse of himself in two mirrors, immediately divorced the first mirror and started dating the second. And worse than that, there's a chance he may actually believe his own post-9/11 press, which is the craziest fucking thing I've ever heard.

TOM TANCREDO: Tom Tancredo thinks he's being stalked by Mexican ninjas who want to overthrow the American government by breeding. The best part of that sentence is that I only had to add ONE gratuitous comedy word, and it was "ninjas".

TOMMY THOMPSON: Just ask anyone from Wisconsin. They'll tell you.

MIKE HUCKABEE: Hello? Covenant marriage? I hope they didn't put him next to Rudy.

SAM BROWNBACK: Sam Brownback? The guy that showed a seven year old girl's drawing of blastulas with faces because he opposes stem-cell research? You may want to order a second straitjacket for this one.

AND THE REST: Ron Paul, Duncan Hunter, and James Gilmore. I don't know a goddamn thing about them, but the fact that they think they've got a shot at the presidency has got to count against them.

OH, AND MITT ROMNEY: Who revealed on national television that his favorite novel is Battlefield Earth. Now, as a devout Mormon, I'm sure Romney would have no secret leanings toward Scientology, and would reject any made-up religion based on space aliens. THAT SAID.

If you're a nerd in your thirties, odds are you read Battlefield Earth just like I did. For the same reason I did. Because it was a nine-hundred-page sci-fi paperback. And as a teenage nerd in the 80's, there was no greater street cred than hauling around a nine-hundred-page book for recreational reading. It was a piece of shit, and even at that young age, we all knew it, but fuck, it was NINE HUNDRED PAGES.

Mitt Romney is sixty years old. Which means the youngest he could have been when he read it is 35. If you read Battlefield Earth at age 35, and at no point in the next two and a half decades realize how awful a novel it is, there is something seriously fucking wrong with your head. Forget his Mormonitude. Forget his hair. If you're a sixty-year-old Battlefield Earth fan, you should not, under any circumstances, be trusted with The Button. In fact, just to be safe, you probably shouldn't be trusted with the universal remote.

No wonder everyone's so desperate for Fred Thompson to jump in the race. If these fools and Newt Gingrich were my only options, I'd be looking longingly at the retirement-age character actor with lymphoma too.