There comes a day in one’s life when one sits back, takes a deep breath and says “Hell, I would have had more fun squeezing rancid lemon juice into my eyes whilst chewing on a dead mouse and listening to Imelda Marcus sing ‘I Love to Love (But My Baby Loves To Dance)’“.
Yesterday was that day. The CNN Republican Presidential National Security Debate was that mouse. And it was TERRIFYING.
If I were an American citizen, I’d be boiling water and stockpiling batteries right about now.
Here’s what I learnt:
Newt Gingrich. His resurgence in the polls means that no soft furnishing in the US is safe from his furry backside (see why here). Apparently he has studied ‘national survival’ for many years (step one: stay alive. step two: er, that’s it). He thinks the second-greatest threat to America is an ‘electro-magnetic pulse attack’. Well Newt, I think L’Oréal make those and frankly a wee go of one might make you less florid. Newt is the Millwall of the candidates. Nobody likes him and he don’t give a shit. Unless it’s on your sofa.
Rick Santorum is a human turducken or, as we like to say in the UK, a three-bird roast (unless you read The Sun where it’s a completely different thing altogether). He is (1) a tiny twitching lunatic with religious Tourette’s, trapped inside (2) a puritanical preacher with views so rigid you could file your nails on them, trapped inside (3) an outwardly genial politician with rather large hips. Do not be fooled (although Rick yelping ‘radical muslim!‘ every five minutes gives the game away somewhat). Describing America in biblical terms as the ‘shining city on the hill’ – an oft-used phrase in American politics – whilst condemning the creeping spread of socialism, he single-handedly fucked the tourist industry in Central and South America into a cocked hat by describing the radicals there as the biggest threat to the US.
Michele Bachman overdid the lip gloss to the point that it looked like her lips were trying to make a run for it every time she spoke. Pronounced ‘duty’ as ‘doody’, which never fails to make me laugh because clearly I have the sense of humour of a twelve-year-old.
Rick Perry knows things that we don’t know. He knows that US security services have been failing to collect intelligence from around the world. He knows that terrorists are operating in Mexico. How, Rick, how do you know?? And if you become President, I’m looking forward to the diplomatic niceties during the next US-China summit after your description that the country is “destined for the ash heap of history“.
Jon Huntsman wasted his experience as a former Ambassador by blethering on about a trust deficit. Almost as unimpressive, Mitt Romney looked like a ‘Just For Men’ model and was just as dull. He committed himself, as President, to visit Israel on his first foreign trip. Oh, Canada will be pleased. Pre-debate, Mitt admitted to once tasting beer and trying a cigarette, and enjoying Scrabble and Roy Orbison, all of which makes him your Nan.
Herman Cain. Oh dear. Apparently he used to be a ballistics expert. He is so out of his depth he’s going to need an anti-submarine homing torpedo just to bring him to the surface. Which he will then probably aim at Syria. Say goodbye, Guernsey.
Ron Paul. I have left the best till last. In a permanent state of annoyed disbelief, he’s like your grumpy, know-it-all uncle who says what he thinks no matter the tutting from your mum. And he was, in my view, the most sensible of the lot. Sensible about civil liberties, sensible about foreign policy, sensible about the war on drugs (I agree with him that alcohol and prescription medicines are far more dangerous than illegal drugs). Ron sees the greatest threat to the US as the overreaction by the US to many of its foreign policy issues. Give that man a hat and call him Captain Sensible.
And in case you are now utterly bored with my growing republican debate obsession: none of this compares to the heated and illuminating debate I overheard between two teenage blokes on the G2 bus on Sunday:
“Yeah, she an 8. Skinny as fuck but with a bee-yoo-tiful big ass.”
“No way brother! She a 6. But she do have good teeth.”
“But that ass! Man, that ass! She an 8 and YOU an ass.”