Every Horse Race and Circus Has It

It’s all about to end.  Our lives will finally return to whatever it is we define as “normal”.  The clouds overhead will break and allow warm beams of sunshine to spray down over the Earth and rekindle life.  Your television will rethink itself to once again show its regular stream of programming and advertisements…regular advertisements.

Election season is about to end and I can’t be happier about that.  In fact, I am as happy as a pig in sh$t!!

I equate Presidential elections to a herpes outbreak.  Every four years or so you start to feel an itch coming on, a rash pops up, and then oh, the dreaded discharge.  Don’t get me wrong here, I don’t have herpes.  I’m just going on what I think I know to be true…it’s my blog and I can write whatever I want to.  But the beauty of it is, nowadays you can get medications that will dry up that outbreak and then you can get back to your life.

The whole presidential campaign process is a mind-numbing adventure that can really suck some of the weaker ones in.  It has the power to turn family members against each other.  It can cause hand-to-hand combat in the streets, mass rioting, organized revolts and bloodshed normally reserved for the downtown streets of Baghdad.  This wonderful thing we call democracy, this thing we brag about to the whole world is a spectacle bigger than the Super Bowl halftime show, man “landing” on the “moon” or even Kim Kardashian’s ass.

It’s the biggest of all big tops with each state and US territory being its own ring in the most grand of all circuses.  There are elephants and donkeys in this circus.  There are also jackasses, sloths, snakes and bufoons…I mean, baboons.  Some are trained, some not so trained but either way, you have to watch where you step.

Because every horse race and circus has it.

The presidential campaign as a process amazes and entertains me.  It’s not that I care about what either candidate has to say about how they would actually lead because I wasn’t born yesterday.  The way the political system is in this country now, there is no one man or woman who can change the course of this country through the presidential office.  In reality, it just can’t happen.  The true power to make change in this country lies in the Senate.  Whoever controls the Senate has the power to force policy.  The office of the President is simply a babysitter role that comes with a paycheck, a pension and a lifetime of a secret service security tandem.  Once Americans stop being so naive they can realize the true entertainment value of this entire process.

For this outbreak of the political herpes we have a real horse race going on.  A neck and neck battle where it could come down to the undecided who decide the race.  If you think about that, it just looks and sounds a little strange:

“…it could come down to the undecided who decide the race.” 

Hmmm…I’m not quite sure how that makes me feel but it doesn’t feel exactly right to me.  It’s not a warm bowl of soup on a cold day.  It’s not 400902050 SPF sunscreen being pasted onto my body on my vacation to the sun. 

In some ways it reminds me of those clowns (another circus reference) in Florida who couldn’t figure out how to use a voting machine and then the subsequent clownage who gave us 27 different definitions of what a chad is.  Again, though, this is all part of the entertainment value of the presidential campaign and election.  Each one of these herpes outbreaks is different and special, just like having kids.  You know you favor one over the others but you’re not about to admit it because you’ll be labelled as some sort of freakish failure one way or another.

If you can’t decide which one of these campaigners will have the best babysitting skills you should move offshore somewhere.  If you can figure out how to build yourself a raft, please do so and set sail for places unknown.  In the world of horse racing you don’t always have to pick the winner to win.  That’s why they offer the place or show options, so you don’t have to be a genius to walk away with some sort of coin for your lack of analytic prowess.  Just find yourself a chad and punch that thing through.  Don’t dimple it, don’t leave it hanging, just attack that thing with the knowledge that you are exercising your right to not make a difference except in a politician’s future in book writing, going on the lecture circuit and us paying for a security force for him or her for the rest of their lives.

After this Tuesday, as long as you stay away from all the talking heads shows, we can go back to watching Cialis commercials and ads for tampons.  You know, the regular stuff.  We can get back to reruns of MASH, the adventures of Snooki and all the other great television programming available to us.  The horse race will be over and the roses will be awarded.  The circus will break down their tents and disappear into history, the animals bullied back into their trailers for the next journey.  And those in the freak show will either become a one-term ex-president or the next overpaid babysitter.

And all that will be left is the cleanup.  The shovels and the brooms and that foul smell.  Because every horse race and circus has it.

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