Columns » Bob Lancaster

More endorsements



Your enthusiasm for the Assmunch political endorsements published in this space last week has inspired the old boy to whip up another batch of them. So without further ado --

Assmunch endorses female vice presidential candidates winking and making kissy motions at the camera, causing old idiot male columnists and commentators to imagine that she's flirting directly with them — “starbursts coming through the screen,” one of them famously sighed — and to compose pathetic return mash notes to her, published for all the see.  It's a little sad, yes, embarrassing, yes, but irresistible, old poker-up-the-butt harrumphers melting away like that to ridiculous superannuated goo.

Assmunch endorses the proposal to hereafter disqualify major-party nominees for president and vice-president who fail to demonstrate that they have at least one lick of sense. That's not setting the bar too high, he decided.

Assmunch endorses ambushing Joe Sixpack and Joe the Plumber, piling on, and giving them both the red belly before turning them loose.

Assmunch endorses requiring presidential candidates hereafter to know how many homes they own.

Assmunch endorses allowing preachers to make their dreary pulpit political endorsements without losing their tax exemptions, but only under certain conditions. The endorsements shouldn't be paid for. They should be sincere, not sarcastic as many of Assmunch's endorsements are, as this might confuse the more literal-minded members of the congregation, leading them to vote exactly the opposite of how God wants them to. And God should dictate the endorsements directly, in His voice, as He does the quotations on the God Sez billboards. The endorsing ministers should be extra diligent that it's indeed God telling them what to say and not James Earl Jones, and not the Devil using clever impersonation techniques he learned from Dana Carvey and Frank Caliendo.

Assmunch endorses making required reading of one of the titles that Sarah Palin wants to have banned and perhaps burned — “Under the Bleachers,” by Seymour Butts. Assmunch wouldn't have any books banned or burned, not even those written by the nut pricks of the Fox stable whose last names start with H.

Assmunch endorses the so-called nostalgia plank of the Republican Party platform which says we'd all be happier and healthier — and it would save trees, help farmers, and reinforce traditional rural values — if we went back to using corncobs instead of t.p.

Put sugar in the turnip greens and there'll be no Assmunch endorsement for you, now or ever.

Assmunch endorses the Palin model of dividing the country into pro-America places and places that hate America, all getting all the residents properly assorted and tagged, so that when we get a few other pending matters settled, we can start rounding up the impious, unpatriotic types — those who pal around with terrorists, for instance, or those who don't think stem cells have souls — and putting them away somewhere. Exactly where they should be put — exactly what should be done with them — hasn't been decided yet, but a solution will suggest itself finally. Some of these hate-America types may be re-educable — lots of that waterboarding might do the trick — but we can't let them out too early like Wayne Dumond. Nor should we let the press in there to publicize their toxic ideas.

Assmunch endorses having one major presidential candidate who seems comfortable in his own skin and another who jerks and lurches around a whole lot like the neurotic robot in the old “Lost in Space” TV series. The latter has been disconcerting, but hey, if you believe in diversity, as most of us surely do, then you want a measure of squirrelly behavior from your oddball candidates

Assmunch endorses waffling. In his opinion, it's evidence that you're self-confident enough to be open-minded. That you're willing to admit that on occasion you might have been wrong. Waffling isn't the same thing as flip-flopping but a pretty good case, a similar case that has to do with exorcising the hobgoblin of foolish consistency, can be made for flip-flopping. There's one sub-species of flip-flopping that's really just plain flopping — it used to be called “grasping at straws” — and Assmunch doesn't endorse that. In this entire quadrant, he recommends for sure guidance the old reliable Learned Hand quotation that the spirit of liberty is the spirit that is not too sure that it is right.

Assmunch endorses bringing in a witch doctor as a last resort. Or, as in the present case, as a first resort.

Assmunch endorses requiring overweight older men, when appearing in public, to wear the foundation support garment called a bro, or a manzeer.

Assmunch cautiously endorses playing the race card, but only if it's one of the spade cards invoking wit or wisdom that came up originally from one or the other of the Mystic Knights of the Sea. Some people see racism in admiring those guys, mimicking them, quoting them. Assmunch sees something else, and wishes political correctness would unclench its buttcheeks long enough to let them have another run.

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