The Maverick Tribe

"Obama is like that new big dark spot on your arm that finally sends you to the doctor for some real medicine."

- former Klansman David Duke, commenting on the presumptive Democratic nominee

"Yeah, actually there is an interesting story behind this. I like to fuck dolls. See ya Monday."

Al Gore's endorsement of Obama today opened to mixed reviews, with many mocking it for its anti-climactic and uncourageous timing.  Myself, I don't begrudge Al Gore playing it safe this time around.  He is now a senior statesman, regarded by many as the rightful heir to Bill Clinton's legacy, stripped of his crown by the Bush thugocracy.  His endorsement of Howard Dean in 2004 turned out to be the beginning of the end for Dean.  Given this bitter history, he had reason to remain neutral during this year's Democratic primary.

I saw some of the speech this morning and I'm expecting the highlight of it to be the sequence introduced with the appeal:  "Take it from me, elections matter".  What followed were generous helpings of the usual legit anti-Bush grievances:  Iraq, Katrina, economic woes, environmental degradation... and then this:

If you care about food safety, if you like a “T” on your B.L.T., you know that elections matter.

If you bought poisoned, lead-filled toys from China or adulterated medicine made in China, if you bought tainted pet food made in China, you know that elections matter. After the last eight years, even our dogs and cats have learned that elections matter.

Al Gore, are you kidding me with this shit?  So bad tomatoes are Bush's fault?  As if there isn't enough Bush bashing material out there, you have to make a stretch to contaminated vegetables and Puppy Chow?!

I can practically hear the gleeful derision coming out of the conservative blogosphere as I type this.  Al Gore, still bitter about 2000, is now throwing rotten tomatoes at the president, they'll say.  This, of course, will overshadow all the important stuff, and any possible bump to Obama.  Nice job.

"This may explain the enormous, dead hooker we saw yesterday."  

For those of you who haven't picked up a New Yorker in the last couple years, a little background.  The New Yorker has a regular feature where they publish one of their iconic cartoons sans caption.  So what you get is a drawing of something incongruous or absurd, and readers submit suggestions for a funny caption.  The editors then publish the three cleverest submissions, and then the readers vote for their favorite.

The feature has become quite a hit, so I guess it was only a matter of time before someone developed the Anti-Caption Contest.  Basically, the contest is:  What is the most terrible caption you can think of?  Morbid, puerile, overly literal... there are many strategies.  I have to say the results had me rolling on the floor.  A perfect marriage, I suppose, between my egghead-y and depraved sides.  Here are a few others I thought were particularly special (perhaps a regular feature on this blog?):

"Why, I just got out of a toxic relationship, and I could really use a drink! No, but seriously, there was a chemical spill over on 43rd and hundreds are dead. I'm surprised you haven't heard."

"What do you think this is, fucking Highlights?"

"Nice parking job, asshole."

Salivatory speculation about vice presidential picks bores me.  At the same time, no one is more poetic when it comes to the Clintons than George Will:

Clinton, having risen politically in her husband's orbit, is a moon shining with reflected light. Were Obama to hitch himself to her, he would reduce himself to a reflection of a reflection.

Then there's this elegiac from South Carolina:

The week before South Carolina voted was the week when, at last, even some Democrats noticed. Noticed, that is, the distinctive cloud of coarseness that hovers over the Clintons, seeping acid rain.

That cloud has been a constant accouterment of their careers, and has been influencing the nation's political weather for 16 years. But by the time Bill Clinton brought the Democratic Party in from the wilderness in 1992... Democrats were so grateful to him, and so determined not to resume wandering in the wilderness, that they averted their gazes to avoid seeing, and hummed show tunes to avoid hearing, the Clintons' routine mendacities.

Do these two evoke "change we can believe in"?

I say "we" because I'd like to think I played some tiny role in the nomination of the Senator Barack Obama as the Democratic candidate for the American presidency.  I made my share of phone calls to voters in California and Nevada, promoting the Senator and getting out the vote.  But I was joined by an unprecidented movement many millions strong, 1.5 million financial supporters, and an array of grassroots activists rising up to the seemingly insurmountable institutional Clinton advantage and carrying the day.