Many people believe that one of the great jobs in history must
have been that of Roman emperor: unlimited wealth, total power,
armies at your beck and call, and not a soul in the empire would
dare to tell you ”no” about anything. One of them, however,
Tiberius, didn’t really want the position, and the longer he held
it the less he liked it.
Many people believe that one of the great jobs in history must have been that of Roman emperor: unlimited wealth, total power, armies at your beck and call, and not a soul in the empire would dare to tell you ”no” about anything. One of them, however, Tiberius, didn’t really want the position, and the longer he held it the less he liked it. His perpetually dour expression as he went about his duties earned him the description ”the grimmest man in Rome.”
Today the winner of The Grimmest Man in America award is – ta-da – John Kerry! You know, it’s about time somebody told the Democratic nominee-presumptive how much his downer demeanor is detracting from his campaign. OK, so his face was chiseled out of New Hampshire granite, he can’t help that, but must he always bear the expression of a Basset hound who’s really sorry about that accident on the carpet? Maybe the Happy Warrior is asking too much, but how about the Not So Miserable Warrior?
I mean, here we have a sitting President as beatable as a rug on a clothesline, the Inspector Clouseau of Chief Executives careening from one disastrous exercise in lunacy to the next, ever imperviously confident of his unerring genius despite all the evidence, and the man who should be on the express train to the White House is going around the country depressing everybody just by showing up.
He needs the guys from Queer Eye, or somebody, anybody to give him a campaign makeover. It’s more than just dumping that droning stump speech delivered in his trademark gravelly monotone, measured out a few words at a time like he was paying for them with a high-interest credit card. You know the one? ”The American people need a President … who will fight for the right … of the American people to have … somebody to fight for them.” He needs pizzazz, bad.
First suggestion: he announces that in order to achieve the necessary and traditional balance on the ticket he chooses Robin Williams as his Vice President. Forget geographical balance or philosophical balance; this is balance between hyperactivity and catatonia. Smush them together and you get one normally animated human.
Second suggestion: he dumps the Brooks Brothers 1954 Trad look so suitable for college professors who are not allowed off campus, and modernizes his wardrobe. Tight leather pants with large chains hanging down the side, sleeveless black T-shirt with a silver lightning bolt on the chest, bicep tattoo with the motto ”Born to Be Nominated,” skull-and-crossbones pinky ring, all topped by a Raiders baseball cap worn backward. Wildly increased press coverage is a foregone conclusion.
Third suggestion: If there was ever a dude who needed a nickname … I mean, ”Slim” is so obvious, and so very much hipper than ”John” – is there any argument? In no time at all the Eminem crowd will drop ”whattup, dawg” and start greeting each other with ”Will the real Slim Kerry please stand up” – it just sells itself. Does this man even HAVE campaign consultants? – they’re missing every opportunity to create an image that will truly distinguish him from the mutant ninja chipmunk on the other side. It’s, like, so depressing I’m like, all bummed.
I mean, aren’t campaigns supposed to be about choices? Look back: we’ve had George the Elder, Clinton the Poseur, Gore the Wooden, and now Tex Terrific. Aren’t we owed a cool candidate just once?
