Watched the debate, and regardless of who you think won … I think there should be general agreement that boredom was the word of the night. Real, soul-numbing boredom, that not even a bottle of Cabernet could cure.
My quick summary of the debate:
Two tired looking guys walk out onstage. President wishes his wife Happy Anniversary. Romney makes joke that he’s also in their bed. Michelle vomits on George Clooney.
Then really, really old guy moderator, who looks like he is one commercial away from the true death, warbles out a question about taxes.
Then about 30 minutes of tax, tax, tax. One guy says he’s gonna raise and lower taxes. Other guys says he’s gonna lower taxes and raise taxes.
I open second bottle of wine. Ripple. Not playing games. This is really dull.
Then ancient man rudely interrupts his debating betters, and tells them we are into a new phase of debate … taxes.
And another 20 minutes of crap telling us that no-matter who wins, we all have to keep paying taxes. Which fucking sucks.
Then a brief break where de-composing moderator takes a bathroom break, and shits sand. Cause that’s what comes out of old people.
Debate resumes. Some blather about Social Security. They both love it and hate it. President accuses Romney of giving out McDonald’s coupons, and Romney accuses Obama of hating McDonald’s coupons, which is as American as McDonald’s apple pie.
Will they actually fight? Get personal? No. They remain absurdly polite. President doesn’t exercise Presidential power, and have Romney detained. Romney doesn’t whip out embarrassing pictures of President in hula skirt at his Hawaiian Prom.
Come on! Ugh. Say something nasty. Throw out the f bomb. Something.
Then they’re yacking more about healthcare, Obamacare, Romneycare. While this goes on, living skull that is moderator reveals he thinks insurance is for pussies, actually dies, and then the un-insured fucker is revised by Candy Crowley, rocking new Botox, and using voodoo powers she acquired after killing Shaman during Jamaican vacation.
Newly risen Lehrer, now a literally a zombie, tells debaters that they have three minutes. President gives him a fuck you look, as Secret Service flank Walking Dead guy. And twenty minutes later both boring heads stop speaking.
That’s not what America deserves. America deserves a drag down, no-holds barred, school yard brawl. This is a country of monster trucks, wrestling, and shoot first, ask permission later.
But that is not what we got last night. We got a bucket of blather.
Instead of hate. Because hate is what politics has become, and we didn’t get that last night.
So this is what I’d like to see in the next debate:
Get personal. “Mitt, is that a Joseph Smith Bible in your pocket, or are you happy to see Jim Lehrer?” The response being: “That’s funny. Fuck you and that cheap blue tie.”
Look mean. Evil eyebrows, rage filled eyes. Intimidate. Watch REVENGE for pointers on this.
Make wild accusations. I recommend alleged fetishes, addictions and even murder.
Utilize your resources. President most powerful man in the world. People disappear. Dogs disappear. LIke Romney’s beloved traveling dog.
Romney a billionaire. Buy Hawaii and sell it to Pakistan. That will really piss President off. Probably make him cry.
Have a debate segment where both candidates get to insult Wolf Blitzer. Whoever makes Wolf cry, gets the win for that portion. Since Wolf has no soul, this will be a very difficult task, but if candidates follow my above advice … it is possible.
These are just some suggestions from an armchair pundit. Will they listen? You never know. Since at least on of the candidates are among my nine followers.