Friday, October 28, 2016


Thank God Mike Pence is okay! His campaign plane almost ran off the runway at LaGuardia yesterday, a result of mud and rain, and now everyone in the media is showing bipartisan decency by rejoicing that Mike is okay. It’s a good thing too, because if something happened to ol’ Mike, well, hell, if something happened to Mike…


Well, we couldn’t rely on that tower of decency and legitimacy. Because Mike is, above all else, when standing next to Trump, a truly reasonable leader.

And my Nana believed Liberace was interested in girls. Let me just leap to that. I’ll tie this back to Mike Pence in a second. But my Nana, now long gone, believed not only that Liberace dated girls, but that the nicer younger Beatles had been “replaced” by the older, scruffier, and stranger Beatles -- and that Rock Hudson and Doris Day were actually an item.

There is only one conclusion to draw: America and my Nana are one and the same.

Mike Pence as the reasonable half of the Trump ticket is an insult to my intelligence. This guy is Jim Bakker without the moral leveling influence of Tammy. His Christian moral code is a gross and ham-handed fiction: he isn’t Donald Trump’s running mate so much as his chief excuser, and in Mike’s world, he’ll excuse anything and everything eventually. Yet people continue to insist that Mike Pence is the good guy, and a devout Christian to boot.

Why can’t people see this for what it is?

If this guy was in a movie as a character, we’d all know instantly that the bullshit Christian phony had entered the plot; the guy who says we have to keep Amity open despite the shark, or denies his company is flooding petro-chemicals into the water supply. Dabney Coleman as Merle Jeeter, for instance. The act is so transparently insincere and he’s so obviously a hypocrite and yet…. and yet, people buy it.

Imagine Trump as a character in a movie: in that case, the filmmakers would get fired the minute the studio saw the rushes. “Jesus Christ, Quentin,” yells the studio exec, snapping on the light. “It’s so obvious the guy’s a total asshole, there’s no suspense and no one to root for!”

The Clintons wouldn’t fare any better. The plastic boss woman with the pantsuit and VO-5 ‘do’, screeching at the crowds (will someone teach that woman the basic concept of the microphone?) and almost assuredly screeching at her aides, security detail and everyone else behind the scenes -- while her bad-boy Jethro husband alleycats around with every siliconed beauty he can lay his hands on, hoping Mommy won’t find out? In the movie, this is the greasy power couple who own the mill where chemicals created the monster that’s eating the town, all of which Mike Pence is denying.

While I’m at it, how about Mitch McConnell? What genius casting agent dreamt that oily fish up? Or the strangely constipated and perpetually angry John McCain, ready to bomb any country at any moment for any reason?

If this were a movie we’d know them instantly for what they are. In real life, however, we apparently check our brains at the door. The only conclusion I can come to is that everyone takes the movies more seriously than real life. When it comes to hardcore realities – the stuff that determines how we live and eat and whether we go to war -- we’re as gullible as my Nana. More Americans give more thought and offer more critical discernment to the intricacies of “Walking Dead” than to the dishonesty of its actual flesh and blood leaders. And so, Mike Pence is a good guy. I, for one, wouldn’t have shed a tear if the plane had just kept on going and tipped into the East River.

"Trust me, the water's fine." 

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