The Witzelsucht Memorandum

Where Top-Hat, Red-Carpet Service is practically a motto

       wit memo home
post-election special

I.  OH, NO!!

              “FDA warns on sexual supplements”
                      – CNN headline, Tuesday, November 2, 2004 Posted: 1:59 PM EST (1859 GMT)

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" ... after an election!

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 various 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 we secretly 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 write-in!)

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 turncoat paramour, 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 curse. 

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 illegal, 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 era.

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 the same).

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:
  • 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.
  • Al Franken will have plenty of work. Opposition humorists and agitators always do better when they're in the opposition. Sales of liberal stalwart The 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, long time.

  • 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 the election?
  • 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. 

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.

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