A few weeks ago I wrote a rant to clarify my thoughts on a few issues. Amongst the comments was this one, by Stickfodder:
“Ok in response to #2 I wasn’t old enough to vote the last two times so don’t you go blaming me blame my parents for not having me sooner. And as for #4 Skippy and Michiel In 2008!”
Now having someone want me for President certainly appeals to my vanity. On a scale between “Doesn’t Care About Recognition” and “Bottomless Vortex of Emotional Need” I probably lean just a teensy bit towards the latter.
But as much as I appreciate the vote of confidence, I must point out that it is misplaced.
But as a quick aside, I want to note that if I did run for office, I would never have Michiel as a running mate. Michiel is sane, logical, intelligent and moral. In other words horrible VP material. You see, if something bad was to happen to me, people might think that Michiel could step in and do just as good, or perhaps a better job than me. And that simply will not do.
The true purpose of the office of Vice President is to make everyone terrified of letting anything happen to the President. I don’t want sane, logical, intelligent or moral for a VP. I want a barely controlled psychopath. I want a man who can, at best, display a fingernail’s grasp on reality. The kind of guy who would call a press conference to strangle a kitten or eat a baby. Someone who becomes visibly aroused when talking about getting to be in charge of the nuclear arsenal. Because if somebody tries to assassinate me, I want those Secret Service agents motivated to jump in the way.
Which leads us back to the original point of this post, which is that I would probably be the worst President ever.
I would bring to the office a sense of, oh, let’s call it whimsy. The sort of whimsy that is usually associated with Pee-wee Herman, or Caligula.
I would preemptively invade foreign countries. Not because they harbored terrorists, or had natural resources that our nation needed. My military adventures would be based entirely on how hot the women of the country in question tended to be. All assets would be pulled out of the Middle East, and refocused on Brazil. The women there are so hot that they got a hairstyle named after them.
Now to be fair, there’s a lot of good things I could probably accomplish while in office. For instance, I have a sure fire method to reduce the price of gasoline.
Step One: Invite the heads of every major petrochemical corporation to come visit me at the White House.
Step Two: Arrange for comfortable seating, drinks, hour’dourves, perhaps a nice string quartet.
Step Three: The Speech.
The Speech will go something like this:
“Gentlemen, I am very glad that all of you could take the time out of your busy schedules to join me here tonight. As you are no doubt aware, our nation is currently undergoing a bit of a fuel crisis. But I am positive that the people in this room have the know-how and motivation to set things right. I would like to introduce you fine people to Master Sergeant Atrocity.
Master Sergeant Atrocity is a former Special Forces weapons expert. He then spent eight years in Delta Force, followed by a ten year career doing black ops and wet-work for the CIA in a variety of hot-spots around the globe. He’s brutal, efficient, practically invisible, and completely loyal to me.
If gasoline at the pump isn’t under two dollars within the next three months, Master Sergeant Atrocity will go to your home and torture your family to death in front of you. Then he will finish you off. And it will look like a suicide. A messy, lengthy, and amusingly creative suicide.
Are there any questions? Yes you there, the CEO of Conglomco International?”
“Who the hell do you think you are? You can’t just interfere with our business and threaten to–”
“Master Sergeant Atrocity? Please give our friend here a lesson in applied economic theory.”
“VIOLENT LOVE BEGINS NOW!”
Various unpleasant wet and squishy noises result.
“Are there any other questions?”
“What happens if we go public with these threats?”
“I would describe the results of such a breach in confidentiality as ‘Spectacularly Unfortunate’.”
“I see. Well it’s cheap gas for America from now on I guess.”
Step Four: Replace the carpet.
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