Democratic Convention - Special Report #2

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Hi everybody,

How many of you (other than NYD) thought/hoped you'd never see a SECOND Special Report in your lifetime from this intrepid reporter? Well that makes all of us. Now I know some - okay, all - of you may feel inclined to take a cheap shot at me for my tardiness in whipping it out. I expect a couple of wisenheimers to demand an "equally timely" news report on Hurricane Gustav. But rest assured for once there's a good reason for the delay.



Suffice it to say, I never should've gone to Bill Richardson's post-Day-1 party. That way I would've never encountered the bad Peyote which at the time went rather nicely with some bad tequila. The next thing I recall is waking up in Tijuana along side Bill and a tranny named Juanita. It took forever to convince border guards that I wasn't a Chihuahua with a thyroid problem.

Okay, I suppose the only way to deal with my various hangovers is to get them over with. So here goes with the wrap-up of my DNC coverage.


Mark Warner (Former Governor of Virginia) led off the "major" festivities. By "major", I mean that there was a steady "stream" throughout the convention of "lesser" speakers using the podium approximately every 10-minutes. In fact, yours truly accidently got in that line by mistake, thinking it was for the port-a-potties. Turns out that my moment of "relief" was way more appreciated than anything the others had to offer. This just goes to show that you can make lemonaid from life's lemons.

Warner, otherwise known as "Mr. Charisma" almost makes Ralph Nader seem interesting. Somebody should've changed the lock so his keynote speech couldn't gain entry.

The gist of his tedious rambling was how he had a vision of cellphones transforming the world into a place where no person would ever feel as important as someone who was not actually present; and no motorist, bicyclist or pedestrian could ever feel safe outdoors again. Thank you for that, dipshit.


Next batter up was Ted Kennedy, who mentioned that nothing was going to keep him away: not cancer nor conspiracies, not Oliver Stone nor even his ex-wife Joan. He noted that America was at a crossroads. It could either return to the party that had led it astray, or it could choose a treacherous, dimly lit bridge to a safe but distant shore.

Uncle Teddy admonished us to make the bold choice, much as his brother Jack had done when deciding that the moon was not just a destination for Alice Kramden, but for America as well. We answered JFK's call and met the challenge. And it was only because of our courage and dedication, that today we can proudly boast of an American flag, lunar rover, several golf balls, a used condom, one empty Jack Daniel's bottle, and the contents of one ashtray as permanent lunar evidence of that conquest.

Terrible Ted then went on to compare our country of 8-years ago to a trusting floozy who simply elected to leave the bar with the wrong frat boy. Sure, at first we agreed that it might be a good idea to walk along the shore and gaze out toward Afganistan as we were coaxed out of our nylons. But that's as far as we wanted any troops to march.



The headliner of Day-2 was Hillary Clinton, who was introduced by her daughter. Chelsea has blossomed into a striking young woman, which makes it difficult for me to accept that Hillary has forbidden me to see her. Now this is where it gets awkward: my parents and Bill have already arranged for me to take her on a date. I know Hillary will be furious, as she thinks of me as her own "Little Intern". Love can take many forms. Why then, for me, does it always have to be in the shape of a triangle? These Clintons will be the death of me yet.


Remember when we found out that, instead of wanting to kill him - Darth Vader was actually Luke Skywalker's loving dad, and longed to rule as father and son? Well, this is the closest similarity I can muster (sorry) to depict the atmosphere as Hillary took the podium.


Was she going to unsheath her purple lightsaber and slay her nemesis, Obi Wan Obama? Or was she going to extend her gloved hand with an offer to unite so that their progeny may one day rule the galaxy together? She chose neither, electing instead to (apparently) back Obama. And yet there remained a lingering, uneasy, palpatine feeling of a sinister sequel looming as she continues to tighten her grasp on the Senate.


The next day, Joe Biden spoke. He started to apologize for being from a state so puny that even Rhode Island tries to bully it at the beginning of every new Congressional session; but then he caught himself and told everyone to go screw themselves. After all, Delaware WAS the first state in this glorious "conga-line" of democracy. Plus, why does almost every company clamor to be incorporated there, if it's not the coolest state?

He then pointed out that he accepted the nomination for "second banana" because "Dick" Cheney had set the bar low enough to stumble over. He pledged to not laugh at every one of Obama's jokes and skits, and to pay off his mortgage instead of dinking around. This alone should make him the best thing to come out of Scranton, Pennsylvania since ... ever, I suppose.

As a kid, whenever he got knocked down by guys bigger than him, his mom taught Little Joe* (* not to be confused with the beloved Michael Landon character from "Bonanza") to get back up and grab a lead pipe as he headed out the door. Soon, he was the bully. Now, the rest of us instinctively reach for lead pipes as Joe enters the room.


John Kerry spoke next, bitterly noting how four years ago he was swiftly screwed out of becoming President of the United States, but that this wasn't about him and his shattered dreams. So instead he emphasized how we must listen and lead by example because even a nation as powerful as the United States needs some friends in this world. No country likes to sit alone eating their lunch from a tray at the distant end of the world cafeteria. Nor does any nation enjoy not having friends to hang out with on coffee shop couches while listening to acoustic guitar.

Kerry noted how perhaps we can befriend Georgia. Not the sweaty and dull "southern girl next door" Georgia, but rather the timid yet exotically "stripper-attractive" foreign-exchange student Georgia. Perhaps all that is needed to scare off her abusive ex-boyfriend Vladimer, is to show up in front of his house in a souped-up GTO with a "coalition" of buddies in leather regalia.



Former President Bill Clinton came on to an exuberant roar of the crowd. As expected, he was very candid in sharing how, in the end, his candidate didn’t win. So much for all of the unaccounted-for Hillary-free time he was eagerly anticipating. And if there was barely any living with her before, this setback would make Dante's Inferno seem like a sauna.

And yet he knew that like America, he cannot be strong "abroad" unless he is strong at home. So maybe he will stand up to Hillary, since appeasement never works with dictators. People the world over have always been more impressed by power of example than by example of power. Except for Hillary. So good luck with that.


Al Gore started out by briefly dancing in front of the podium with the Elaine Benes character from Seinfeld. Then he spoke to an appreciative audience that clearly showed prodigious reverence for this esteemed inventor of the Internet, since Internet porn could not exist without it.

One of the greatest gifts of our democracy is the opportunity every four years it provides for Democrats to "kick the football through the uprights" a la Charlie Brown. So what if most times the powers that be and a whole bunch of dumbshit voters are able to cruelly swipe the ball away at the last second?

Under his Presidency, Al would have pursued bin Laden like so many discarded Florida ballots. And Chad would be one of the first places we searched.

Tipper's Skipper then noted how voting for McCain was a form of recycling, but not in the beneficial "circle of life" affirming Soylent Green context; rather in the disgusting manner that used sardine cans and old milk containers are reclaimed "as is" for consumer reuse.



Instead of letting lobbyists and polluters control our destiny, we'd invest in solar, wind and geothermal power. Not a ray of sunshine would touch the ground without being redirected onto a electricity generating panel. Nor would a cool breeze ever again evade a turbine-fueling propeller until it was thoroughly spent. We would replace every hideous oil rig with not quite as hideous but more ubiquitous geothermal extraction rigs.

Al then drew parallels between Obama and Lincoln, noting how Honest Abe came from Illinois with seemingly little political experience, and how The Great Emancipator also took over for a horseshit President whose last name started with a "B". He then segued into a meandering explanation of how Lincoln had a manservant named Obama, while Obama once rode in a Lincoln, but by this time the crowd was clearly distracted by the buffet that was being set up to sate the post-speech "munchies".



What can I say about Obama's speech on the final hour of the final day, that the scriptures and Nostradamus haven't already foretold?

And a man of color shall appear before the colorless and mostly odorless
The chosen one chooses not to grace the arena named for a popular beverage
So in it's place he appears in a great edifice graced by a white stallion
Between massive columns of styrofoam he speaks to the masses washed and otherwise
For our future and for our childrens' future we must and shall beat these other guys

The chosen one gave a concise and powerful speech. The image of him, with each of his arms chained to a column, was too much for some and yet not enough for others. At the conclusion, he appeared to gaze at the heavens and mumble to an unseen force. It was then that the columns appeared to ever so slowly nudge toward each other, eventually toppling over into the now horrified crowd. Then the moneychangers* (* these days more commonly referred to as ATM machines, which of course really have no relevant place in this vignette) were driven from the temple, but I think it was captured on one or more surveillance cameras.

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This wraps up my coverage of the Democratic National Convention. I hope your expectations were sufficiently low enough for me to meet them (or at least head them off before they reached the exit). See you next report, where we'll meet again. Don't know where, don't know when. May the force be with you.



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