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The
International Writers Magazine: US Politics
Goodbye
Super Tuesday
Romney Bails/Madam Shoo-In & Master Barack
Draw
James Campion
After
nearly half the country's states have weighed in on the Republican
and Democratic presidential candidates, only one party has managed
to rubber-stamp a presumptive nominee, John McCain, whose right-wing
obstinacy and an abject rejection from the south has all-but gained
him a seat on the big ride. Next door, McCain's purported Secret
Weapon, Mike Huckabee, swept through the Bible Belt and mercifully
put the booby-prize, lesser-of-three-evils, flip-flop mess of a
Romney campaign out of its misery. Meanwhile, the Democrats gear
up for delegate deadlock and an ugly late-August convention battle
in Denver.
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With
2025 delegates needed for nomination, and the current trend of virtual
splits in state wins and proportional delegate counts spread evenly,
there are simply not enough primaries or caucuses left to allow Democratic
voters to decide a candidate. According to party rules, this means Super
Delegates or VIP's -- DNC officials, congressional Democrats, party
fossils, and a confusing host of grass roots activists -- will rumble
inside something called the Pepsi Center to anoint what could be the
next president of the United States.
Under this unconscionably stupid system, forty percent
of the delegate force rests in the beer-spit vagaries of 769 shady,
back-scratching fat cats, which could, once and for all, sufficiently
expose the corruption, cruelty, and down-right scamming of a two-party
system that should have been abolished a century ago.
Time to add a new contestant to the time-honored axiom
about things best not seen made: sausages, laws, and now, national party
nominees.
The ultimate fates of Barack Obama and Hillary Rodham
Clinton will inevitably reside in this suspect exercise, much to the
soon-to-be chagrin of a record number of voters, both new and old, who
have stormed the polls for their candidates.
Most have stormed for Barack Obama, the first legitimate
insurgent national party candidate since George McGovern. Backed by
gusts of weirdly skewered polls (Zogby not only had him leading in every
primary, but also "American Idol" and a perplexing Best Picture
pool for the Oscars), showered with plaudits from slobbering press lackey's
(most of these cable news' guys practically weep whenever a state is
called for Hillary Clinton), an African American backlash (to the tune
of a whopping 80 percent), and millions of motivated young voters (shattering
turn-out records everywhere), Obama rolls on unhampered by party arrogance.
The reasons vary: Obama is new, damned good, but mostly,
he ain't a Clinton; otherwise there was more than a fair chance he'd
have been tossed into the scrapheap long before New Hampshire ala Gary
Hart or Howard Dean.
Most important of all, Master Barack currently has more
money than any presidential candidate in history, earning $32 million
in January alone, most of it coming from the Internet in a staggering
grass-roots windfall; a pipeline of funds tripling the dwindling Clinton
campaign coffers, which needed a $5 mil loan from its candidate just
to make it through Super Tuesday. It was a difficult spin for campaign
head, Mark Penn, who told the Washington Post that the once-lauded money
maverick, Terry McAuliffe had been dismissed on assignment to Hollywood
Boulevard with tambourine and tattered hat in hand.
In the face of all of it, the Clinton Camp claimed victory
on Super Tuesday based on lowered expectations and this increasingly
redolent idea that she is suddenly the underdog, an act of deceit only
exceeded by their candidate's goofy claim she won a Florida primary
that was not contested by any candidate, including her, and didn't even
count.
In quick response, The Obamians pointed to the new infusion
of John Edwards' white-male votes in Georgia, stealing Connecticut,
and a sweep of mid-west caucuses, all of it hollow victories in the
shadow of the big-state stomping by Clinton in California, New York,
New Jersey, and Massachusetts, despite Kennedy/Oprah muscle.
The final question for Democrats may be what all this
"Change Agent", New era", "Yes, we can", spiritually-uplifting
Obama miasma will mean in August when the insiders begin to buckle under
the pressure of the Clinton Machine. Over a decade of favors rendered,
deals struck, and cushy insider jobs will be on the line in Colorado.
How do you think these Super Delegates get so fucking super; Excalibur
emerging from a mystic lake?
However, there is always the anti-Clinton wing of this
sleaze-bazaar raising up to slap a seal of approval on the new kid just
to take down Madam Shoo-In and her nauseating Billary dynasty.
No matter how it's sliced, a sweeter summer treat for
political junkies does not exist. When the bottom feeding is finished,
it will make what happened in 2000 at the tip of the Florida peninsula
look like your eighth grade civics class.
You want to make a difference this November on the Democratic
side? You best find out the identities of these power-broking fuckers
and come with serious cash donations, promises of eased government regulations,
or six-figure job offers. Don't forget to identify your candidate: Senator
Rodham's all-woman, Latino-supported, lower-income, entrenched entitlement
lifers, or Master Barack's youth-movement, black-centric, upper-middle
class, highly-educated liberals.
On the other side of the fence, many Republicans, as divided
and confused as their opponents, prepare to hold their noses and become
belated McCainiacs. Humiliated and drained of millions of his own fortune,
Mitt Romney, everyone's favorite counterfeit conservative, used his
long-awaited C-PAC speech to declare himself a suspended dead man in
the grand tradition of the 1960 Goldwater or 1976 Reagan bow-outs.
Romney's hackneyed "You'll be sorry" campaign
eulogy in the holy name of ideological purity was so patently disingenuous
it had the editorial department of the Wall Street Journal comparing
it to the defiant Nuremburg babbling of Hermann Goering.
It was a bitter end to a solid five months of uninterrupted
conservatism for Romney, who would just as soon become a Scientologist/PETA/NRA/Butthole
Surfer next time around if it can gain him the White House. But you
could hardly blame him. Finding a conservative who can get votes these
days is like picking out a heterosexual designer in "Project Runway".
Fred Thompson and Ron Paul hardly set the political world
aflame, Rudy Giuliani's tough-guy routine garnered only one more delegate
than either of my cats, and now Romney, with an arms-length liberal
record of pro-gay rights, pro-choice, et al, takes his steel testicles
and slumps off into the sunset praying the Democrats obliterate the
GOP this fall so he can be its savior four years hence.
Draping himself in rhetorical patriotic compost, the Billion
Dollar Loser did his best to play martyr for a war-torn country in need
of unity. Apparently not since Franklin Pierce's doomed Kansas-Nebraska
Act hastened the confederacy, has quitting politics been such a noble
act of national security.
The only remaining question for McCain and the party is
what to do with Huckabee, who has whipped the religious fanatic base
into what Doctor Hunter S. Thompson once described as "a Jesus-based
rage" and can now hold up the south as a socio-fascist firewall
for anyone harboring hopes of winning the White House from the Right.
McCain predominantly carried Democratic states (New York,
New Jersey, California, Massachusetts) on Super Tuesday, and will have
some work to do to secure the party's base, which he is sure to confront
in the coming weeks -- the prospect of which has his staffers in mid-cringe.
The last time McCain sucked up to the Right he was seen wearing a tunic
at Bob Jones University baptizing the whores of Babylon with a used
Strom Thurman staff.
Of course the old man could always tell these righteous
has-beens to take a hike and continue to seduce the center/independent
vote and pray to his chosen deity the Clintons are left standing come
fall.
© James
Campion Feb 7th 2008
realitycheck@jamescampion.com
And
Then There Were Three
James Campion
McCain v Dynamic Duo
Super Tuesday battleground
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