BY MAX BURBANK | My, but it’s been an exciting month since the Iowa caucuses!
Once-inevitable Republican nominee Jeb! Bush had to turn in his exclamation point and have his mom walk him home.
Ultra-conservative wet dream supervillain Antonin Scalia took an all-expense-paid bribe/hunting vacation with his secret society Illuminati pals and decided to multitask by dying. Before rigor mortis could set in, hideous human/turtle hybrid — Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell — publicly celebrated Scalia’s lifelong commitment to Constitutional Originalism by ignoring it in favor of an unwritten rule of thumb, the “Thurmond Rule,” created by a deceased senator best known for his lifelong dedication to segregation and occupying his senate seat for almost a decade past the point where he could form sentences or chew without assistance.
Chris Christie decided he never did say that thing about Trump being unfit to be President, and instead rolled over on his back at Donald’s feet, exposed his belly and peed himself in the most humiliating display of slavish submission since every single moment of Jeb!’s campaign.
Then suddenly, without any warning (beyond having been on the calendar for almost four years)…Faster than a speeding bullet! More powerful than a locomotive! Look! Up in the sky! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s… SUPER TUESDAY — the biggest, baddest, national electoral cluster#$@&%! until the actual election! That’s 12 states, or maybe 14, or one of them’s a territory, or 11 if you’re a Replublican, or 15 if you’re a Democrat. Nobody really knows. For sure, there’s Massachusetts, Oklahoma, Texas, Vermont; that really cold, far away state you can see Russia from if you’re extra stupid; that state where they filmed “Deliverance”; that other state where everybody thinks the Emancipation Proclamation was just a suggestion; some state I can’t think of right now that has more registered Republicans than teeth; some other horrible backwater states, and…American Samoa!
Super Tuesday was originally designed to put enough delegates on the line at one time in order to force candidates to address issues of national concern, weed the field down to one candidate, and stick a collective thumb in the eyes of Iowa and New Hampshire, who think they’re so big. And it worked! Mostly. Kind of. Iowa and New Hampshire both made laws that say they go first no matter what, even if they have to move voting back to before the previous election.
As of press time, all the candidates who went in to Super Tuesday are still in. Nevertheless, Super Tuesday did achieve its main purpose: leaving the nation with two clear front-runners.
Hillary Clinton is now the inevitable nominee.
All major media outlets are using that word — “inevitable.” You know, the way she was inevitable until Sanders started drawing enormous crowds and polling better in the general election. Or the way Jeb! Was Inevitable! before other people started running! Pundits love the word “inevitable,” except in the sentence, “Boy, I sure was wrong when I said [insert candidate’s name] was inevitable.”
Yes, Hillary won seven states to Bernie’s four, and won more decisively, but Bernie still…Okay look. I can’t do this. I can’t keep calling them “Bernie” and “Hillary,” even though that’s what absolutely everyone does. We are not friends. I mean, I like them fine, but I don’t know them personally. There is absolutely no way I or any other writer, news reader, or for god’s sake, voter, is on a chummy, first-name basis with Clinton or Sanders, which is what I’m going to call them from now on. Hillary and Bernie; what is this, a sitcom? Stop it. You need to stop it.
So blah, blah, blah. Clinton is competent and tested, but the money! She’s so political, with the being against gay marriage way after it was cool and crap…and Sanders! I mean, who doesn’t love an irascible old Socialist Jew who wants to tax the crap out of the grotesquely wealthy robber baron class? He’s adorable, but if by some miracle he became president, he would not get a single thing through Congress, not even if he signed off on a bill that said all Republican senators must be addressed as “M’Lord.”
Sure, there are big differences here, but both candidates could undergo psychiatric evaluations and not be immediately committed against their will. It’s more fun to write about the Republicans.
As of press time, none of the Republican candidates have “officially” dropped out. Kasich and Carson, who collectively garnered well over a dozen delegates all told if you add them together — unless I did my math wrong. I really wasn’t paying much attention, because, seriously? Kasich sated that he was pleased he’d exceeded expectations, so assumedly he’s not concerned that these “expectations” were the kind of low not usually found outside of record-setting limbo contests, and was looking forward to a “home court advantage” in Ohio, which someone should remind him is pretty much just one state.
Asked what the hell Carson was thinking by staying in the race, Campaign Chairman Robert Dees responded, “Well, we clearly don’t know,” but that the “opportunity exists” for people to “wake up” — just not “Carson,” because it is “dangerous” to wake someone who is “sleepwalking,” which is what Carson has been “doing” in “lieu” of a “campaign” for “months now.” Shortly afterward, Carson told supporters he will not be in Detroit for the Mar. 3 Fox News Republican debate, that he “did not see a political path forward,” but that he was no quitting, and that he would address his political future on Friday. He then walked face first into a corner and began snoring.
Despite retweeting Mussolini and coy refusals to outright decline the support of David Duke and the Ku Klux Klan, anthropomorphic vintage catcher’s mitt/toupee combo Donald Trump swept to victory, crushing all contenders beneath his yugely expensive Italian leather jackboots. This is not to say that the vast majority of Republican voters are unashamed racists physically aroused by the prospect of American Fascism, except that’s pretty much exactly what it is to say.
Even though, or more likely because, former governor Sarah Palin endorsed Trump (I think she did, she might have been having some sort of prolonged seizure), Ted Cruz won Alaska. He also won Oklahoma and his home State of Texas, answering the question, “Are the voters of The Great Sate of Texas simply ignorant bigots, or ignorant bigots blindly lining up to buy snake oil and get rich quick schemes from a man whose head resembles a rotting, Ugli Fruit swollen to the point of bursting with the gasses of decay?”
About a week ago, Rubio boldly abandoned the high road, trading up from transparently fake reasonable human candidate to insult comic. First, he cracked wise that The Donald requested a full length mirror before the last debate because he needed to make sure his pants weren’t wet — and then, referencing Trump’s admittedly stubby wee hands, he made what may well be the first dick joke in presidential campaign history. Rubio’s platform is now that Donald Trump pees himself and has a tiny wiener. How will Donald Trump combat terrorism, negotiate trade with China and reform our tax code when he is too busy peeing himself with his abnormally small junk? Now at last we have reached the level of discourse the Republican Party has long demanded.
Are we ready to call Trump “inevitable?” I mean, you know, for the nomination. ’Cause no way are we crazy enough to make that dude president, right? Right? Come on, say something. You’re scaring me here.
