The giant clown gloves on my hands are merely proof of my devotion.

Hello, gentle readers.

I realize that the staple rule of all internet interaction is not to feed the troll, but sometimes something so incalculably brilliant appears that you simply have to toss the slavering beast a few scraps. Behold Hitch Bitch. Perhaps the most erudite 15-year-old nihilist on the entire staff of Vanity Fair (take that, Kendrick Darkrayven) will even get his comeuppance. If reading the New Yorker has taught me anything, and it hasn't, it's that college professors often have nothing better to do other than think up zingers in response to the things that they read.

Because they are nerds, Lebowski.

Anyway, I apologize for my absence (I'm certain you were tres desolee) but I had stuff to do. Like go west of the Allegheny River, to Columbus, Oheeyo. It is a strange land, full of bars and sex shops and then more bars and then more sex shops and then! Aldi's! LET'S RENT SOME DAMN SHOPPING CARTS! The entire state seems to be riddled with Arby's and Cracker Barrels, too, so if you've got a hankering for biscuits or roast beef, allow me to merely point the way middle-west. Though if Ohio is the mid-west, does that make Pennsylvania the mid-east? Or are the mid-Atlantic states simply content to exist as they are (Mid-Atlanticism), proudly being neither southern nor western? Oh H E double hockeysticks, we already passed up that theme week, didn't we?

One of the greatest vices I indulge in is political bickering. For the record, I don't especially hate any candidate this year - I've spent the adultier-third of my lifespan in open protestation to our president and his baby-eating party, so you can understand if I am somewhat bewildered with McCain, and how I agree with some of his policies. We are presented with a candidate that is not a raging douchebag from the Republicans. Likewise, spend-o-crat side, we have Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton, who both deviate from the Old Evil White Male stereotype significantly. What is going on, America? Like season 4 of Project Runway, there is no clear-cut villain. Which is partially why things are interesting to me. Like, I am happy no matter what happens.

So I suppose I can only really support whichever candidate proposes catapult the aforementioned Christopher Hitchens into the sea, perhaps to be followed by Tom Delillo or the Bizarro version of Gabriel Garcia Marquez (who I imagine is actually George Bush Jr.). I mean, since Ron Paul basically slid away with his tail between his legs, and since Mike Fucking Gravel has evaporated like the ethereal being he ran as, we have very few (openly) madmen with which to entrust the title of Chief Executive. Logically, we must then make them mad.

Their public nature will be the first stepping stone. They want our vote? They must do little things at first - provide sound bites, pose with the elderly or the frowny or the ugly. Barack Obama must perform a handstand to prove his presidential character, and Hillary Clinton must eat ten banana pies. McCain must enter the Chute of Shoes, and find ten matching pairs within five minutes. Little fokesy things! To prove how connected they are with the people. Soon things are stepped up a notch. Perhaps someone boxes a kangaroo, or even wanders through a maze of mirrors with several body doubles and wax duplicates. Eventually, they will wear clothing made of grape jell-o and write backwards, or perhaps unicycle on elephants. Really, it could be anything, because what I'm proposing here is not just delightful whimsy. I will vote for any candidate who wants my vote so badly that they sacrifice their dignity and sanity.

Is it a lot to ask for? Certainly. But this is hedonism week (for like, negative two days now?) and I am feeling haughty. And I tire of candidates who are willing to talk and debate and blah blah blah. Give us a show. America is the next Roman Empire, so why bother pretending that it isn't? Our decadence could burn so bright that it casts a shadow for centuries to come, instead of just burning guiltily behind closed doors.

BONUS CONTENT:
You may have been aware of your own suffering enough last Friday to notice a lack of Krazy Kwotes. I have heard benediction, and relief comes swiftly.