The Witzelsucht Memorandum
Where Top-Hat, Red-Carpet Service
is practically a motto
I. OH, NO!!
“FDA warns on sexual supplements”
– CNN headline, Tuesday, November 2, 2004 Posted: 1:59 PM EST (1859
II. THE DEVASTATED DEMOCRAT'S
GUIDE TO JUST GETTING OVER IT.
It's over, and Devastated Democrats can't believe it. He won! He really
won this time! How could it have happened? You hated him so much! And this
time you tried really, really hard, you gave it your best shot! You threw
everything at him, everything but the kitchen sink! The mess in Iraq, WMDs,
missing explosives, soaring deficits, job loss, Abu Graib, Osama not dead,
Fahrenheit 911, Richard Clarke, Joseph Wilson, Ron Susskind, Michael Moore,
Al Franken, George Soros, Eminem, MoveOn, Vote or Die, bushels of 527 money,
and did we mention the mess in Iraq? And he
still won! And
for real this time! More votes than the other guy, more votes than anyone's
ever gotten, even more than Ronald Reagan ever got! He whupped what's-his-name
like a red-headed stepchild, beat him like he was his daddy. (Seems
like few voters saw the advantage of a beer-swilling first lady!)
And you're devastated! You can't believe it! How could this happen?
How could so many people could be so wrong, so mistaken, so ill informed,
so . . . so . . . stupid? Come on, spit it out, say what you really
feel! You're writing into
Post chats and Wonkette
wanting to know if New York or San Francisco can secede from the rest of
the country, swamping the Canadian immigration website, and, like one college
woman featured on NPR, staging a wake for "the death of democracy" ...
Relax, Despairing Dems, relief is at hand! Follow the simple, sure-fire
steps in Wit Memo's Guaranteed Guide
to Getting Over It, and in no time at all, you'll be ensconced in bliss,
savoring the privileged life that makes America the envy of the world and
the number-one dream destination for all foreign travelers, refugee and
terrorist alike! And having spent many years in the District under
Barry administrations, Wit Memo
is an expert at Getting Over It! And, in the improbable event
that anyone in a position of power should ever read this, Wit
Memo, craven dog that we are, would like to make clear that
liked Dubuya, even if we might not exactly have
voted for him (those new touch-screen machines are complicated! We think
we might have voted for Lyndon LaRouche by mistake, and he was a
Wit Memo's Guaranteed,
Sure-fire steps to help Dismayed Dems Just Get Over It
Drink. You're facing another term with a teetotaling President
overwhelmingly supported by evangelicals who, like his Attorney General,
don't drink, and don't want others to drink, either, spurning hallowed
Republican Party tradition. You Disappointed Dems will have to do
double drinking duty, guzzling for yourselves (to drown your sorrow, natch),
and for them. It'll take a lot of firewater to put out that fire in your
belly, and the next four years will go by a lot faster if you're snockered
on a semi-permanent basis. As Merle Haggard sings, there's always
been a bottle I can turn to, and lately, I've been turning every day. If
it helps, imagine John Kerry in the role of
the One True Love who broke your heart and let you down very badly. What
does any reasonable person do to deal with that particular pain? He hits
the sauce! And as the end nears, here's hoping that Dubuya, campaigning
behind him, will loosen up a bit and get reacquainted with an old friend,
demon rum. You know what they say about The Wagon, it's just transportation between
benders. He'll have a big toot coming, and we hope he gets to enjoy it.
Pop-a-top again, I think I'll have another round! And once you're good
and soused, what could be more fun than to. . .
Find a scapegoat. What better balm for despondent Dems than finding
someone to blame for ruining what seemed like a sure-fire win? Now that
the triumphant GOP gladiators have been carried from the Colesseum atop
the shoulders of their cheering supporters, vanquished Dems standing on
the arena floor have no one left to hack apart but each other. Some top
candidates for the blame bloodbath:
Bob Shrum. Are there any Dems out there who didn't feel
a sickening dread a few weeks back when a profile of Kerry's campaign honcho
revealed that he's never worked on a winning Presidential campaign, that
he somehow managed to miss out on the two big Clinton wins? In a different
time and a different culture, he'd have a big last meal, slip into a hot
bath, and open a vein. As it is, there's a good chance that his Dem enablers
will let him use the next race as a vehicle for him to break his personal
And once you're dreamily sated with drink and pay-back, you can take
solace in the following happy notions, the bright sides of the Bush win:
Homos. Boy, Americans sure don't like gay marriage, do they?
All media have reported that the single biggest issue with voters who put
Dubuya over the top was "morality." And all because the one distinct group
of people who don't have to get married, the only ones with
the perfect, sure-fire retort for when a sweetheart starts Whining For
A Rock and demanding to Set A Date, couldn't leave well enough
alone. And thanks to their efforts, not only is gay marriage still
but plenty of states are amending their constitutions to ban domestic legal
arrangements as well. Thanks, guys, for making it
all about you.
Young people. They were supposed to make the difference. Motivated
by rock-the-vote and vote-or-die efforts, by disapproval of the war and
the looming specter of the draft, left-leaning young Americans who normally
don't give a rat's ass about politics were supposed to take a break from
downloading plagiarized term papers, having flowers engraved at the
base of their spines, and from asking, 'do you want fries with that,? and
stream to the polls in numbers sufficient to drive the incumbent from office.
And what happened? Anyone could have seen this coming: When
those stoned slackers saw the long lines at the polls, they were all, like,
"whoa, doood, get a load of that line! Man, what a buzzkill! I'm totally
gonna bail!" Get back to your X and your X-boxes, and reflect that you'll
never know what it was like to be promiscuous in the pre-AIDS
Europeans. You so wanted them to like you, and then they went and
ruined everything with The Guardian's disastrous campaign of writing letters
to Ohio voters. Don't worry, when you vacation in Europe, you can still
tell them you didn't vote for Bush, but now you can pin some of the blame
on them, too! (That's right: all Europeans and their countries are exactly
You no longer suffer the maddening ignominy of having a President who
got fewer votes than the other guy. It's a poor example of Democracy
we've been setting for Afghanistan, Iraq, and all those tinhorn mid-east
dictatorships (who must surely know they're In For It now), when the guy
who gets the most vote loses, and all because of an inscrutable mystery
called the Electrical College. That's now a contradiction of the past,
and we're once again the shining ideal of democracy that we've always been!
You've got a President who KICKS ASS!! Keep your Woody Allens, America
always loves a Clint Eastwood, or a Gary Cooper. Not locquacious men, but
sure hands with a shootin' iron! Comedian Keith Robinson, who opened
for Wanda Sykes at GWU's Lisner Auditorium on October 29, declared his
fondness for Bush for reminding him of the crazy-ass, hair-trigger uncle
you always wanted by your side when trouble started back in "the neighborhood."
You oppose the war in Iraq but you've said over and over that you Support
Our Troops. Well, troops fight, and they've got a doozy of a fight in Fallujah.
So let 'em know that you want them to send a message from our kickass President
straight to those terrorist insurgents, with their suicide-bombing, hostage-beheading,
women-enslaving, no-democracy-havin' asses!
Can the hatred, feel the love. Congratulations! You've just learned
what Republicans learned in 1996: that hatred for the other guy isn't enuf
to carry the day. Back then, Republicans just hated Bill
Clinton so much that they assumed the rest of the country surely shared
their choler, and that his defeat was a dead-to-rights certainty. Didn't
it strike anyone as significant that Kerry had the support of a group of
women calling themselves Mothers Opposed to Bush? Where were the
Mothers Supporting Kerry?
The Red Sox Curse? Back in effect! Admit it: you thought the amazing
Sox comeback was a Sure Omen for a Kerry win. The magical tide that swept
over Boston would surely float the boat of the Bay State Senator. That
magic didn't last long. What were Dems thinking when they nominated yet
another liberal from Mao-Tse-Chusetts? The real JFK is dead, deader
than Elvis, and he's not coming back anytime soon. Here's betting that
the next Sox curse makes the last one look positively evanescent.
Things might not have been all that different. Not where Iraq is
concerned, anyway. Had Kerry won, the only difference would've been that
when he asked our European allies for help - the centerpiece of his plan
to extricate us from that fix - he would understood them in their native
tongues when they said, "Thanks, but no thanks."
More entertainment. He sounded so sincere, did Kerry, but ever time
he opened his mouth, the stentorian Senator's sonorous oratory made us long for a soft pillow, a cozy comforter, and a glass of warm milk. Whatever else
you may think about Dubuya, he won't bore you. Watching him speak is like
watching a major league home run king: at any moment he could uncork an
astounding shot. This one isn't even close.
So now you've finally Gotten Over It, and you can go forth into the world
confident that you'll think only happy thoughts when someone mentions Bush.
You can now spend the next four years convincing yourself that evangelical
Christians in Arizona or Alabama will actually vote for a New York City
Senator who happens to be the wife of a philandering former President and
who once talked snippy about Tammy Wynette.
Al Franken will have plenty of work. Opposition humorists and agitators
always do better when they're in the opposition. Sales of liberal stalwart
Nation almost doubled during the last four years. At least, there'll
be more installments of The New Yorker's back-page "hundred days"
quizzes cataloguing bizarre administration utterances. And by the same
token, Ann Coulter will probably end up selling a few books fewer.
You get to be a member of an oppressed minority, and thus cool.
Beatniks, Bikers, and porn stars: heroes now, but all reviled in their
own time. Now you too can savor the cachet of the Lone Rebel, of the antihero,
fighting the good fight against all odds, apart from and above the white-bread
rat-race majority. It'll be great while it lasts! Which could be a long,
You won't have to worry about finding a Rambo anymore. Guess what?
You don't have to be a combat veteran to be President after all! Is anyone
surprised that Kerry's combat vet war-hero status didn't carry the day,
after a bona-fide WWII hero like Bob Dole got spanked by a draft-avoiding
pussy hound? Why didn't they figure that out before
Four years of those hot twin daughters. Since attaining majority
not long ago these Party Girls have established a presence in a certain Georgetown bar, where they've been busy renewing their paternal fondness for the sauce. Only great things are expected from Jena and Barbara. For proof look no farther than the photo
Wonkette posted of the two of them at their Dad's speech, Jena displaying
decolletage, Barbara (the overlooked hotter one) with nipples on elevated
alert status. What could the healthily sex-crazed Wonkette have found "creepy?"
with this tableau? Kudos to Barb for giving us only a taste
and not showing us everything at first go, like that Kerry film maker daughter.
to Wit Memo