AAAAHHHHAAAAAAAHHHHHAAAA! - Bewitched, bedraggled, and bewildered. Make the comedy stop!
Sex columnist calls for “Masturbate to Christine O’Donnell Day”
It’s a hard political season and we can all do with a little comic relief. That lovable lunkhead, Sarah Moosilini, wore a bit thin when she began inundating the country with her 140-word Twitternouncements. Susan Angle brought the funny for awhile, but she’s a dark comic who always leaves audiences a little edgy about whether she’ll exercise her Sec0nd Amendment freedoms on their asses.
Now, there’s Christine O’Donnell.
This chick is a laugh-a-minute. She can claim masturbation is vitrual adultery while keeping a vapid, cute little gapped tooth smile on her chipmunk-serious face. She claims she started dating by canoodling behind the altar with a witchcrafter down at the Wicca Wig Wam and Occult Church and then laughed it off with the airiest, most delightful grin – though the Wiccas seem none too pleased. But Wiccas, cheer up! Republicans didn’t like her at first either, but now she’s growing on them!
However, like any good comedienne, she has a dark side. Her belief that she can cure homosexuals of screaming cases of The Gay™ has alienated more than one of her “friends” and some of her former campaign officials made robocalls against her the day before the primary. And, it seems, she has more skeletons in her Halloween-hating closet than they have down at the Spirit Halloween Superstore.
Combine serious charges of tax delinquency, misappropriation of campaign funds, stiffing her vendors from previous campaigns, and the miscellany that all candidates pick up while swimming in the political death pool and her cute-as-a-button smile might just get wiped off her smug mug in the near future.
As O’Donnell and other attendees at the Tea Par-Tay make it to ballots, there’s much being said about their influence. Dems are rubbing their hands together like a stoned raccoon at a hot dog convention, lulled into Christmas-night dreams of a political disaster averted. The Republicans are asking Daniel Webster to reconsider that whole agreement he negotiated with the devil for them. Independents are frozen in the headlights, unsure which way to turn to avoid the scruffy riff-raff who rave like soap box preachers downtown. And the Baggers themselves? They don’t even get the joke.
The secret to good comedy is to take it right to the edge and not a smidge farther. Making people uncomfortable is OK, profoundly scaring them isn’t. There’s still time before the elections for another few rounds of Palin/Angle/O’Donnell jokes, but not much. It’s about time the adults break up the party and start cleaning things up for the election. We’re tired of laughing to avoid crying. Our sides are split from so much myrth. We just can’t take it any more…
No, really. We can’t.