Monday, December 10, 2007

dream ticket

It hit me yesterday.

Obama Biden.

It rolls, doesn't it? And Barack could say that Joe's one of the cleanest, most articulate VP candidates out there.

And Biden is Johnson to Obama's Kennedy. And of course, Obama isn't Kennedy, but Kennedy wasn't actually Kennedy either. Sure, Kennedy was Himself, but his admnistration was Vietnam and the Space Race and The Cuba Fucking Missile Crisis and then Dealey Plaza and bye-bye.

What if we could have a Kennedy administration without the Kennedy ending? What if a young, idealistic guy could sit behind the desk with an old, totally trusted guy in the VP seat? And what if, and I'm dreaming now, Barack had the balls and imagination to appoint

John McCain

The Man

As Secretary of State?

Yes. Think on it. Him.

Isaac has a point in a comment to the previous post, which is that Johnny wants to bomb the living shit out of most countries and probably most states beside Arizona. But the Secretary of State doesn't make those calls. And yeah, it's a really bad idea the more I think about it, but he came to me because he's the only person, the only one, god help us, to be able to state simply and with conviction:

No. We don't do that.


We're Americans. I swear to you that we won't do that anymore.

John McCain.

If you don't know his history, look it up. And forget about the last five years. He made a bad, stupid deal with his tribe and he chose loyalty over honor. It was a bad deal, but you should look at his whole life and you'll see that it makes internal sense that he made that deal. He should have beat the Idiot in South Carolina seven years ago. He didn't and he accepted that fact. And he stayed, tight-lipped and smiling, loyal.

Stupid. But honorable. I carry such a torch for this guy, don't know why.

So that's my banner:


McCain as SOS.

Hillary stays an extraordinary and effective Senator from New York. Edwards starts a church or a shopping network or something. Rudy's head explodes from internalizing the Snarl for too long, but he survives, of course. Big Fred is revealed to be Newt Gingrich on Dan Quayle's shoulders, dressed up in a Big Fred costume. Huckabee eats a pie, blows back up to 350 pounds, loses all electability. Richardson retreats into obscurity, still insisting, rightly, that he's the most qualified person in the race. Romney, angered but still smiling, goes back to the Mother Ship, after destroying several major American cities with the beams of light that come out of his eyes. And the rest of us find something else to bitch and argue about.

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