One of the oldest axioms (or is it axia?) is to avoid discussing politcs or religion. So I go out on a limb here. My grandfather used to say that you can’t rise to the top in politics without being tainted. Why did he say this? What did he know? Maybe he was right. Who would want to hang in there all the way to the top while being tossed around by criticism, slander, libel, dirty jokes, backstabbing and favoritism? It seems like too much trouble to the sane, normal person. Which leads me to believe that the ones who finally make it are neither. Any more.

Were things different in the days of Ben Franklin, Thomas Jefferson or even Churchill? I don’t know. But politIcs is a magnet for backstabbers and liars. It goes with the territory. So what kinds of people these days are the leaders of the pack? What do they do and how do they act, and knowing the answers to these questions, why would we want them to be our leaders?

Take George W. Bush. He has a long, sordid history of cheating people out of their money. He used to raise money, speculate on oil fields then take a cut of the investor’s money then go belly up. And he’d repeat the process. Plus he was arrested for cocaine, driving over a Democrat and having sex with an onion. Some of this is true. Now he is our leader. The Democrats have their own share of slimeballs. Equally as bad.

We have to examine what it takes to win at politics in the media today to understand how we end up with such losers as winners. First we have what is termed the “debate.” When I was in school, a debate was an argument or discussion to which you brought facts to dispute your opponent’s claims. Here is a typical debate of old:

LINCOLN: Slavery isn’t a good system.

DOUGLASS: Yes it is.

LINCOLN: No it’s not.

MODERATOR: One point for Lincoln, zero for Douglass. Lunch break!

BUT THIS IS NOT what a debate is any longer. Nowadays, a debate takes place on national television. A moderator who is no particular genius, but looks good in a shirt and tie, asks hard-hitting questions. Unfortunately, the candidates/debaters do not answer the questions. Instead they just use their time to say whatever they want; and the moderator doesn’t hold their feet to the fire. They don’t say, “Hey, whoa, hold on there, buddy boy, I asked a question and expect you to answer.” For this reason, I believe that a mother — a typical mother of two or three children — should be the moderator. Then the debate would go more like this:

 MODERATOR/MOM: Mr. Bush, you didn’t go to Viet Nam, but you expect others to follow your orders and die for you in wars overseas. Isn’t this true?

BUSH: Huh, yo, yuk. Well, I love Saltines. They make me thirsty, but not as thirsty as pretzels. What is a pretzel anyhow? How does it get all twisty?…

MODERATOR: Are you kidding? Do you understand English? What are you babbling on about? You’re going to answer my question, young man and you’re going to do it right now.

BUSH: Whoah, you’re as high strung as Condee at a sale in a clothing boutique. Chill, baby. Women’s clothes half off. I love it.

MODERATOR: That does it. Don’t make me count to three…

BUSH: Alright, alright. I avoided, errr, I did more important things than go to Viet Nam. I flew over Kansas with a fast jet. That ain’t easy. Takes skill and mental powers of constipation. It’s like war. You should try it. I still have a rash.

MODERATOR: What about your stand on abortion? You are against abortion, but do you believe abortion doctors should be murdered?

BUSH: Look, it’s either be killed or kill them. Or kill. Or die. Man, these lights are hot. Look, abortion isn’t in the Bible. There is nothing under the “A” section. And neither are abortionators. So it’s a moot point. I’m a poor black man. Don’t pick on me.

MODERATOR: What did you just say?  LOOK AT ME when I’m talking to you. And take your hands out of your pockets.

BUSH: Yes, ma’am. Turd Blossom told me to use that line. I got nuthin to do with it. Honest Abe. Listen, if this is all the questions, you should move on to my opponent. He just wants to cure the world or some such. I don’t understand it. We need the oil. Iraq is next and then Iran and then one of the Ganistans. What’s a kurd?

MODERATOR: That’s about enough of you. Go to your room. Wait until your father gets home.

BUSH: Daddy? Alright. I can do that. Maybe he bought me an oil field or an oily baseball field. See how I combined the two? It’s called synchronissitude. You should try it.

Well, that’s how it would go. Not much better, I admit, but I’m tired of these softball meatball moderators like Tim Russert who, like most of his ilk, flaps in the breeze and changes sides more times than Terrel Owens. If you want to hold a candidate’s feet to the fire and make him really face the nation, you have to make this stuff real or forget about it. If I want talking points, I can go to Floyd R. Turbo’s website and get hypnotized by the flag.

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