I should run for office. It's not that I'd be good at it or anything: I have way too many skeletons in my closet. And since I worked in government before, I know it can be tedious. But I have learned I'm completely willing to compromise my principles to get what I want ... and that makes me a perfect specimen for public life.
Good enough for government work, anyway.
I know I'm a sell-out because I'm voting for Bob Casey -- despite what I'll call my "progressive guilt." You see, while Bob Casey favors civil unions for same-sex couples, he is against gay marriage, because he wants the butter-churners in the "T" to vote for him. It's the kind of shameless pandering that usually makes me sick. Casey is against stem-cell research. That's just plain idiotic. He's pro-life, too. Who is this freaking guy, Rick Santorum?
Well, no.
And that's the thing: I'm so desperate to see Santorum go, I'll vote for a tree stump if it'll help. In fact, I believe I am voting for a tree stump. As I've written before, when Bob Casey gives a stump speech, the stump has more charisma.
Yes, Casey is the lesser of two evils. Yes, Santorum is the evil of two lessers.
And that's the kind of compromise you often make in politics. The Green Party candidate, good ol' what's-his-name, was much closer to my point of view: pro-choice, ready to pull the troops out of Iraq, all that stuff. But he was a Santorum stooge. He could have cost my tree stump the election. Santorum staffers helped get signatures for Green Party Guy. Green Party Guy was just an attention whore, willing to accept help from the forces of evil to get on the ballot.
He's gone now, because many of Ricky's surrogate-gathered signatures were suspect. That's one more sign that Ricky's goin' down. And believe me, Ricky's going down. He's going down faster than a drunken Congressman Foley at a page convention. And I'm just swimming in the delicious wonderfulness of it all.
I'm so damn happy I want to hug somebody. I'll even hug Santorum's gay, black communications director Rob Traynham, who will soon be out of a job. But he'll be fine. He'll get a cushy media gig, because novelty sells -- and you can't get any more out there than being Rick Santorum's gay, black communications director.
Why am I so anxious to see Tricky Ricky hit the road? Because he's arrogant and condescending. And he's worse than my boy the stump. Because at least Bob believes in civil unions. And even though Bob has hinted he might have voted to send troops to Iraq, at least Bob wants to fire that loony-bird Secretary of Defense, Don Rumsfeld. And at least Bob opposes offshore drilling, because he knows we can't drill our way out of the energy crisis. And at least Bob knows that privatizing Social Security is about the dumbest idea ever concocted by crazy conservatives.
But most of all, Bob ain't Rick. I'm an Anybody-But-Santorum fanatic. You know what pisses me off the most? Ricky's asinine comments in that tome he penned to respond to Hillary Clinton's It Takes a Village, entitled It Takes a Family -- though I always thought the title should have been It Takes a Douchebag.
In the book Ricky said we should go back to a time when one spouse worked, and the other stayed home. But see, Ricky, there's this thing called "college," and its costs are astronomical, and if you want to send your kids there and you're not rich, ya kinda gotta have the two incomes. You condescending idiot.
In the past, Santorum has implied that the priest-abuse scandal in the Boston diocese should be blamed in part on the liberal atmosphere in Massachusetts. How moronic is it to blame some guitar-strumming hippie wanna-be in Cambridge for Father Touchy McFeely having his way with little Johnny in the church basement?
Meanwhile, there's Rick the Catholic, unwilling to take some responsibility for the unconscionable scandal in his church. Sound familiar? It's kind of like Rick the Republican, unwilling to accept responsibility for the disaster that is Iraq.
Good luck, Sen. Casey. So long, Sen. Douchebag.
