The Endless Election

   The only thing propping up our weak economy is the roughly $2B being spent on the presidential election. The biblical flood of anonymous, unregulated campaign spending has proven to be a terrific stimulus package for advertisers, caterers, and hair stylists.

   Prices and profits are up ever since demand for red, white, and blue balloons caused a global shortage of helium. Our bottomless appetite for imported American flags even prevented a recession in China.

   The USA may not have invented Reality TV, but we were quick to turn it into a governing principal.

   Season One is full of exciting, scandal-prone novelty candidates with sweater vests, cowboy boots, and quirky ideas about science and geography. Most of these early candidates get booted off the island during the final episode known as “The Primary Election.”

   If your favorites don't survive the primaries, there's no need for despair. Many will be back for Season Two cameo appearances in the gala extravaganza called “The Party Convention.”

  The party convention is like “Lollapalooza” for people with golf carts.

   In deference to Mr. Romney, hurricane-proof hairdos will be on display at the Republican event conveniently scheduled during the peak of tropical storm season in Tampa, FLA.

   The Democratic convention will be wrapped in mystery and tension over whether Vice President Biden will be allowed near a microphone.

   The main outcome of either convention is the “party platform.” The platform serves the same purpose in politics as in Olympic diving: the competitor must jump off the platform, twist and turn in mid-air, and land in the great bathtub of public approval without splashing anyone. Any candidate who “flip-flops” loses points.

   The conventions are largely ignored by real Americans who are either on vacation or getting their feral kids ready to go back to school.  The real purpose of the convention is to encourage the party faithful to litter neighborhoods and highways with non-recyclable plasticized yard signs.

  Once the conventions are over, the final leg of the campaign marathon begins.  Because most voters are loyal to their party, the candidates now engage in symbolic struggle to convert a small percentage of critical swing voters to their side. Appealing to the swing voter forces the tongue-twisting candidates to escape Houdini-like from a variety of contorted positions. 

   By the end of summer, most voters would rather be water boarded than hear another campaign promise. With the nation’s attention span spent, the short but exciting Season Three offers thrilling twists and a surprise ending in November when everyone texts in their vote and Ryan Seacrest announces the winner.

  

Can't decide? Vote for Pedro?

One Star Review

One of the most intriguing reviews I’ve received for “No Roads Lead to Rome” is a one star lament stating, “Read the cornflakes box, it's better.” 

This hurt, but I put on my big boy pants and bought a box of Cornflakes to see if I could improve my writing. I'm always willing to learn and I really want the sequel, “Aqueduct to Nowhere” to snap, crackle, and pop.

I fixed myself a nice bowl of cereal and settled in for a good read. The excitement started immediately when I learned that Cornflakes are over 100 years old. Cornflakes are old as Norway? I was captivated and ready to be transported by the magic of words on paper.

Let’s face it. A 100 year old character sets high expectations for the rest of the box, but I’m glad to say our friends at Kelloggs delivered on the initial promise. The segment on the food pyramid was as compelling as any I remember from elementary school. I couldn’t wait to see what would happen when my 100 old cereal encountered fresh milk.

But the conceit simply didn’t support the weight of the narrative. Why did the writer veer off into a longwinded, completely tangential recipe for “Cheddar Broccoli Double-Coated Chicken?”  At first I thought this was a metaphor for a 100 year old cereal’s struggle to make peace with the modern ethos, but it felt rushed and could have used better editing.

Speaking of modern constructions, I must cry foul on the constant references to external links. Contemporary devices like this jerk the reader out of the historical context. If the cereal box had been an e-book, I might have been willing to click over to the kelloggs.com link for more insights, but when I sit down to read a work printed on paper, I expect it to be complete.

In spite of occasional brilliance, the initial promise falls flat. Midway through breakfast, the box was beginning to feel like it was written by a committee—especially the “Nutrition Facts” section which read like a chemistry teacher’s shopping list. In a word, dire.

Finally, I know a good breakfast is the cornerstone of a productive day, but wasting an entire side of the box—even a narrow side—on this topic suggests to me that the author ran out of fresh ideas and fell back on dull clichés and haggard moralizing. Show me, Cornflakes, don’t tell me.

In short, I would give this box a one star review. The meandering narrative is saved by the excellent graphic design and that wonderful rooster that woke me up without a lot of shrill crowing. (Did you know his name is Cornelius? I didn't. Why did they wait until well past the denouement to reveal this?)

As breakfast goes, I would rate Cornflakes slightly worse than Green Eggs and Ham and nowhere close to what they serve at Tiffany’s.

1-star Rooster

An Independent Menu for Struggling Candidates

In the past few US elections, perfect hair and radiant teeth have swayed the electorate more than policy statements and campaign promises. This is because the only group who truly cares about issues is the independent voters and they don’t decide until the very last minute.

Party loyalists will always vote the ticket, but that’s not enough to win a majority. A Republican candidate can always count on the faithful, and a Democrat can never count on anything.  Since the electorate is equally split between the two major parties in most key states and regions, the independents can swing the election.

For candidates struggling with how to win these critical swing voters in November, I offer an easy approach. Assuming you’ve got a good hair and a bright set of teeth, here’s a simple policy menu that will fit all budgets and appetites.

DIY Candidate Menu

Chose one item from each section and start campaigning!

Appetizer

• Legalize Marijuana: this helps conservative candidates because stoners will forget to vote anyway
• Gay Marriage: Help our weak economy with lavish weddings and expensive divorces.

Entrée

• Abortion: Re-define life to start at graduation
• Foreign Policy: Give Louisiana back to the French
• Gun rights: all citizens issued a hand gun at birth

Side Dish

• Technology: Defend our right to carry concealed iPhones
• Housing Crisis: federally subsided spear guns to all underwater homeowners

Desert

• Immigration: Declare a one day, worldwide amnesty where people can change countries.
• Budget Deficit: Sell advertising space on national monuments and aircraft carriers

Beverage

• Energy Policy: Red Bull
• Austerity Measures:  English Breakfast Tea Party

 Still hungry? Vote for political humor by reading "No Roads Lead to Rome"