Allow me to go back in time for a little bit. The year is 1857. James Buchanan is in the White House, slavery is still very much a thing, and other sorts of 1800s-y things are happening. The olde tyme-y press corps sit patiently in a room without air conditioning because that wasn’t invented until at least the 1980s or something. They await the First Lady, the FLOTUS if you will. They sit in their seersucker suits, they sit sweating and waiting and it’s all very long and drawn out. They wait, but the First Lady never comes. Why? Because there is no First Lady! Suddenly, TURMOIL. The south rebels! Atlanta is burned to the ground! Abraham Lincoln rises above the nation and yells “QUIT IT, YOU GUYS!” Slavery is soon abolished and racism destroyed! All because of a bachelor President!
It’s been a minute since my last history class, but I’m pretty sure that’s all correct.
I don’t give two fucks about Lindsey Graham. He’s a pretty standard conservative who will never ever ever be President. Ever. Like, why even go through the stress when you know, you just know, that you will never win? It’s a lot of stress and money to see yourself parodied on the Daily Show for three months.
Because I mean, hell. The “I hate Muslims, isn’t Obama a scary Muslim, ISIS is coming for your children RIGHT NOW” platform is some great white people stuff, but most white people are somewhat sane, if not misguided, and that modicum of sanity will rear its head and scream “VOTE FOR JEB BUSH INSTEAD, YOU IDIOT.” Which is all well and good. Except for Jeb’s whole unwed-mothers-should-be-publically-shamed-ala-The-Scarlet-Letter thing which, honestly, I didn’t put too much time into reading about because let’s be real, Jeb Bush is a putz who will drive his own NON CAMPAIGN into the ground.
And why the fuck do I have to wait for Jeb to announce still? I mean, I know, I know, you can still coordinate with a Super PAC if you aren’t technically a candidate, and you can be real weird and shady with money if you haven’t technically said you are running. But Jeb’s “not in the race” in much the same way that I “didn’t take the last slice of cake and rubbed the frosting on my body last week even though it wasn’t my cake.” Which happened. I’m sorry you have to think about that now.
And you know who else just announced besides not-Jeb and yes-Lindsey? That’s not a rhetorical question. I have no goddamn idea anymore. I’m pretty sure that the frogs from those 90s Budweiser commercials just tossed their hat in the ring, along with He-Man (a compassionate conservative) and Strawberry Shortcake (who is actually running as a Libertarian, but under the Republican banner). Fuck, that’s like 1000 people already and I don’t want any of them to win, except my Snapchat buddy Marco Rubio (WHO NEVER SNAPS ME BACK, MARCO). Which brings us finally to the goddamn debates.
The first Republican debate (the only debate worth talking about because the Dems are going to have to trot out a cardboard cutout of Dan Quayle just to fill up space) is in August (probably) and will only feature 10 candidates. This is both a good and terrible rule. Good because how many hours long would a 25 person debate be? And terrible because OH WOULDN’T IT BE AMAZING TO SEE STEVE FROM ACCOUNTING AND RICK PERRY HAVE A SPARRING MATCH OVER WHICH GOVERNMENT AGENCIES SHOULD BE CUT?
Steve from accounting: I think we should do away with the DEA, the IRS and the DOJ.
Rick Perry: Well, that might be a good idea, but what about the EPA and the… the… CB2?
Steve: The furniture store?
Rick Perry: Those guys too.
It would be a clusterfuck. A beautiful, beautiful clusterfuck. (And yeah, I leaned on that Rick Perry doesn’t know government agencies joke, but I’m trying to finish this so I can go ride roller coasters so you gotta do what you gotta do.)
Anyway, primaries are stupid. Let’s just let Hillary Clinton (sorry, Grandpa Bernie) and Jeb Bush go HAM on each other for a year. Maybe lock them in a cage with a key suspended above them and a ladder and no rules. I think that’s a wrestling thing, but also would be good for democracy. Like, instead of voting, you send your candidate a weapon or some soup, which is the Hunger Games. I don’t have any actual ideas, I just want to see more physicality in the election. Oh well.
517 days until the election.
Wyl Villacres is a writer and registered Republican who votes Green Party. His political work has been featured in the Examiner, Time Out Chicago, and This Ordinary Guy, and Newsweek once put him on their Tumblr. Find more about him at wylvillacres.net and follow him on Twitter: @wyllinois.