12
Aug
15

Cirque Du Pomposity: Trying Not to Kill Your Own Chance Pt. 1

cirque-du-pomposity“So now you’d better stop and rebuild all your ruins,
For peace and trust can win the day despite of all your losing.”
The Immigrant Song  Led Zeppelin

 Less than a week ago the Big Top threw open her canvas flaps and gave everyone the thrill they’d waited for; the 2015 Republican debate. No erratic trips to go swill whiskey with friends this evening, I had to witness the debate live time and savor every nuance of the political rage on stage by the top contrending (sic: a mixture on contend and trend…drugs made me think of that one…thanks drugs) GOP potentials. An earlier debate for what the media considered lesser chance winners wasn’t pushed as hard as this one and presented at a non-prime time slot for most the public to gaze in on. This later debate would carry the candidates they wanted to focus on. That was sort of a shame to me because I wanted to see Fiorina in a bitch rage against Huckabee or Trump. That woman could chew a guy like Ted Cruz down in seconds, gnashing on his thigh and disposing of it as if to deem his meat not even worthy of digestion. I believe Fiorina’s exit numbers came in hot enough (on top of all in the early debate) to guarantee her some good coverage in the next heat of the race.

 Ten Wannabes in front of the camera that evening: Donald Trump, Jeb Bush, Scott Walker, Mike Huckabee, Ben Carson, Ted Cruz, Marco Rubio, Rand Paul, Chris Christie and John Kasich. There was no way they could block enough air time for everyone up there to give a good representation of themselves, which made this stretch of the race the toughest so far. They like to whittle down those that can’t stay up with the big boys; those who would pull a freeze up or fuck up….like Rick Perry last go around when he suffered an awkward bout of amnesia right in the middle of a rant. Neither party wants to have a major fuckup on the air because major fuckups costs poll points. Poll points that follow you for two or more voting cycles and it doesn’t just take down you, it takes down the entire party. The preshow warmup let us watch the camera pan over these clandestine old Republican palm greasers eying the stage, looking at the stock they had to choose from. A good enough show from any of the potentials meant dollars in the pocket to finance their campaign. I keep my hands busy back and forth, multitasking on this keyboard while the thing marches on. Some old school male idiot suggests that Fiorina would make a good Vice Presidential runner-what an ass. She just mopped the floor with those earlier candidates and this schmuck thinks she should take second place like a ‘good woman’?

 The Big Hurrah started, an awkward kind of walk-in for the event for moderators Bret Baier, Megan Kelly and Chris Wallace. The Moderator (Wallace) tries to lighten it up and put things on track by asking a fairly innocent question. He asks if any candidate would refuse to support the leading candidate from this group should that said person rise in numbers enough to take the nomination. Seemed a gentleman-like polite thing to throw out three but they all forgot there was one guy in the round that wasn’t a gentleman. In true Trump fashion, Donald Trump refused to give his blessing to any candidate should he slip behind them in the race. He more or less told them he was all in and wasn’t playing party policy here. That could very well be the thing that’s put him so far ahead. His bully attitude and pompous display of arrogance are laughable but his raw attack on some of the old party rules of etiquette hit home. I think some people admire the man for standing his ground. The guy never backed down calling Mexican immigrants rapists and he wasn’t going to take any of it back. He threw it in the other candidates’ faces saying ‘come on motherfuckers, try and dance with me…I’ll rip you apart!” Everyone on that stage knew somebody had to go after Trump like a pit bull on bath salts. He was making it too difficult to play old school campaign. Personally I felt the Big Man, Chris Christie, was the only one who could dance with the Donald that night. The others would be too polite, or too whiny-like Rand Paul. No, Trump was ready to rumble in the mud if necessary and Christie was raised in mud so I was really hoping for a shout-off between those two. Sad to say, none really developed.

but there was more than enough to savor without a Christie/Trump battle…many facets.

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