The Price of Sanctity

I've become engrossed in the presidential race.  Not the candidates, really, but the way campaigns are run.  I find myself fascinated by all the rules and the strategies and the analysis of the debates and primary results.  It's so entertaining that I have to remind myself that this is actually a process to select the leader of our country, and that I am responsible for participating. [Note to self: Put down the popcorn bucket and start paying attention.]

I'll vote when the time comes, but in the meantime I want to get in on some of the fun political shenanigans.


Of course, I'm a bit late to the party here.  Stephen Colbert created his own super-PAC for the purpose--ostensibly--of funding his own bid for the presidency.  If all that's necessary to create a super-PAC is just express a vague interest in political office, I may try to get one myself.  If I understand correctly, they're like a cross between Scrooge McDuck's money bin and the Death Star (metaphorically speaking): financial monstrosities that are subject to no rules or regulations.  I've got some student loans to pay off, so having one at my disposal would be handy.

Colbert also wrote a guest editorial in the Columbia State newspaper explaining how the money enabled him to determine the actual price of sanctity during his attempt to buy the naming rights for the South Carolina GOP primary.  His attempt failed, needless to say.  I don't think I'm trying that one. 

I'm also finding myself strangely fascinated by attack ads.  Horrible though they may be, there's an art to their composition.  Even renaissance man Steve Martin has gotten in on the action, as he leads a smear campaign against his fellow nominees at the Bluegrass Grammys.  At least, that's what he claimed via twitter.  I want to construct such an ad myself, but there's no one I despise enough to attack publicly.  Not at the moment, anyway.  So instead, I'm going to run an anonymous attack ad against myself.  It'll be good practice.

The formula seems well established:  One, splice together still photos of me with horrible facial expressions (e.g. any photo that has ever been taken of me).  Two, lay down track of foreboding minor chords.  Three, add accompanying graphics of non sequitur newspaper headlines proclaiming things like "thousands jobless," and "trade deficit worsens," or "pleads no contest to loitering charges."  Four, top it all off with a dour voiceover with out-of-context quips like "was absent for every single vote of congress last year" and "has still never publicly denied hating kittens."

Then, I'll hold a press conference in which I express outrage and astonishment that anyone would stoop so low as to attack me for no reason.  I'll blast the media for playing the ads and then demand that the responsible parties reveal themselves.  A few days later, I'll suspend my nonexistent campaign out of concern that the cowardly, anonymous ad runners may escalate their attacks...

...which would then enable me to use the super-PAC money for whatever I wanted.

Wait, what?

I think I just accidentally plotted something diabolical.  And unless the public sees honor in preemptively self-reporting ethics violations, I think I probably just destroyed my fictional campaign with this blog post.  Hm.  Perhaps I've watched a bit too much political coverage.  Might be a good idea to suspend viewing for the next seven or eight debates, and then pick it back up in March.