Late Night: Your Favorite Candidate Sucks
This has been a very difficult, very bruising primary season, especially where it matters the most, where the truly critical battle is being fought for the soul and future of our great party and our great nation: online, in blog comments sections, in blog diaries. Tempers have run high. We have seen ugliness.
All this brings me great sorrow. It is so very unnecessary.
Why are we so divided? Why are we so choked with venom, with… hatred? As a movement, we need to keep our eyes on the higher truth, on the deeper purpose behind this acrimonious bickering. We need to put all selfishness, all negativity, all rancor behind us. We — or, more specifically, you — need to stop with the yelling, stop with the name-calling, stop with the slander, and acknowledge and realize the truth, accept the facts, and move forward so together we can achieve victory in November.
You need to admit that your favorite candidate sucks.
I fully realize that this may be a very hard thing for you to do. I understand. After all, it is quite clear that the chief reason you support your favorite candidate is because of your own personal failings and inadequacies.
I am not unsympathetic. There are clearly no rational reasons to support your favorite candidate, so it is only logical to rummage in the danker, smellier corners of your soul for the origins of your bizarre and inexplicable preference of a presidential candidate who sucks. Please be assured however that I do not judge you harshly for the fact that you surely like to molest squirrels while high on crack cocaine. This is likely only the melancholy if inevitable consequence of your upbringing in a family of dysfunctional, alcoholic leprechauns. With therapy, you may heal. Perhaps.
Or maybe you support your favorite candidate, who sucks, merely because you are very young. I admire your enthusiasm. I do. Come here while I give you an affectionate pat on the head and congratulate you on your puppy-like if unreflective capering and frolicking. It is to your credit that you are too wide-eyed, naïve, and childish to comprehend how badly you have been deceived by the empty promises of your favorite candidate. Who, I must soberly inform you, sucks. Now scamper off and do as you are told by your betters.
On the other hand, it is not inconceivable that you have taken a shine to your sucky favorite candidate because you are a hideous decrepit fossil whose mummified soul is withered with jealous resentment towards the hope for a better future embodied in the candidate you fail to endorse. You may feel that you possess some wisdom born of experience, some knowledge of how politics and "the real world" operate: lamentably, so would say many another pudding-like corpse, were it able to converse. Please roll your wheelchairs aside and let the young and unwrinkled lead: for, you see, your favorite candidate… sucks.
How can one possibly avoid concluding that you are consumed with identity politics, or at least the politics of identity? That sucks, as do you. Your continued support of your favorite candidate, who sucks, will ensure that the Party splits, that we lose the election, that cats and dogs will live together, that sexism and racism will endure forever, and that American Cheese – the Cheese of Patriotism – will no longer be available in portions individually and lovingly wrapped in plastic. Thanks a lot, asshole.
Because, after all, what is crucial is that we find exactly the right person in order to shape our movement. What would be stupid (ha!) would be to strive to build a movement that might instead influence our leaders. What on earth could possibly the danger in placing all of our eggs of hopes and dreams for a better life for ourselves and our kids in the basket of a single American Politician? Whenever has one of those people failed us? My favorite candidate, clearly, may be safely trusted to carry that basket into a Better Tomorrow. Your favorite candidate, who sucks, will likely drop the basket, break the eggs, and then fuck the shells.
Please comprehend, if you are able, that I am only informing you of my superior judgment in these areas for your own good. After all, were you as capable as I am of perceiving the inner truth of what it means to be a Liberal and a Democrat, you would not be so deluded as to support your favorite candidate. Who sucks. I do not expect you to be grateful — but that is as may be. My lonely contemplation of my perspicacity is reward enough.
By the way, if you choose to take issue with my comments about how your favorite candidate sucks, I welcome such debate. But please — do not be impolite.