By Staff
Oh … my fellow … amusing … nerdy little delegates. Every four years you give yourselves a little party – and me something to mock.
You look so cute in your cowboy hats (red states) or designer suits (blue states). With your little signs. You make me laugh a little … when I'm not getting annoyed with your spokespeople.
Your spokespeople, who have gotten lost and wandered into the pages of a comic book. Yes – on the dark and dangerous streets of the American landscape … from the urban inner cities, the posh West Coast mansions, edgy eastern metropolis walk-ups and everywhere in between – there is a man. Well, two men. Okay, three men. Three men and a woman.
Each a presence in every facet of American life. In living rooms and kitchens and on the airwaves of radio stations. Their pearly white smiles plastered on computer monitors and streaming over iphones.
They look like you and me. They eat cereal. They wear pants. They have reflections. But … not everything is, as it seems.
For behind stark blue suits, with their boyishly handsome good looks and sly, seductive smiles – Barack Obama and Joe Biden are 2008's Clark Kent and Jimmy Olsen. Change? Kent and Olsen are all over it. I half expect Obama to suddenly duck into a phone booth as he's speaking – emerging as his alter ego self, in brightly colored tights with a big O stitched on the front. Together with his little tagalong, Obama and Biden come off so squeaky and clean. It's like they live in a Tide commercial. I want to take them to a keg party just to see what would happen.
But far from the busy streets of Metropolis – there is John "Dark Knight" McCain. He's got the skeletons in the closet and he stalks the dangerous streets of Gotham. Stalks … stumbles … same thing. He's got the chiseled edges … and a discouraging hobble. I want to send him a case of Ensure – you know, just in case. I held out some hope for him throughout my thriving disenchantment with this entire farce … until last week. When he brought in Sarah "Bird-flu Robin" Palin and said to America, "let me blow your mind." And blow it, he did. Like things weren't bad enough already.
Thanks Mr. McCain. Last week, as she made her first major address – I swear Palin was foaming at the mouth. Superheroes aren't supposed to do that. She's no young, vengeful, yet sensitive sidekick like Robin is supposed to be. No. She kills moose. And looks like something is pinching her.
Condoleezza Rice could make a good Robin. Sadly, Palin's fate is Batgirl. Same costume – smaller audience. Never really catching on. It's cute though, Ms. Palin. You know, the little idea of you charming the pants off a bunch of Republicans. Because let's face it – even members of the party have to admit that except for Reagan – y'all are a bit boring compared to your neighbors. Metropolis is bright and busy. Gotham is dark and dreary. Oh well. We all have a part to play.
And kudos to the writers of this year's election. What? There are no writers? Huh. So the family of five, the attention grabbing pregnant daughter, the hockey thing…. The silver haired, twinkle eyed Jimmy Olsen with the earnest pleas from the son going off to war – wait -isn't Batgirl's son going off to war too? That wasn't planned? Well … I guess that's egg on my face, huh? I just thought it was a game of 'who can trump who.'
Meanwhile … the poor people of Gotham, Metropolis and everywhere in between hang their heads as these sad excuses for superheroes battle for the bigger cape and bigger patch of sky. Because they're missing the point. It was never really about the costumes. It was about keeping our best interests at heart. About keeping us safe. So I guess, maybe … they're not quite, just like us.