The early Dem candidates for 2020 – part 2. The turnips in tutus.

Posted by Pointman on May 3, 2019 · 10 Comments 

The first part of this series dealt with what are currently thought to be the three main contenders for the Democrat presidential nomination in 2020; Biden, Sanders and Harris. Of the three, I can see at the moment Sanders probably having the slightly better chance of winning the Dem ticket, strange as that might sound.

Creepy Joe obviously has a compulsive groping problem that’s not going to go away and such a tendency usually comes with a long history of previous misdeeds which are easy to dig up. That’s the classic sex offenders’ profile. Heels Up Harris’ approval rating with women voters seems to be a seriously limiting factor, because put quite simply – they don’t like her, a problem she shares with Hillary. But, perhaps this time around the poor bovine American women folk won’t be instructed by their husbands to vote for Trump, which I think was Hillary’s excuse #236 for losing in 2016.

It might just conceivably turn out to be Sanders by default, rather than Biden, which’d be extremely good news for the Trumpie Monster.

A quick look, and I do mean a quick look, at the other contenders, doesn’t reveal anyone who appears to be of any consequence at this stage. They’re all currently trailing with support in the single digit percentages, but if the main contenders start to self-destruct, their relative positions may change.

Elizabeth Warren. She’s old school, not overburdened intellectually and falls for juvenile pranks without even realising it. She’s also deceitful and a liar. Her only claim to fame seems to be representing herself as part Injun to get into some college which was operating a minority tokenism system. She denied it was a scam for years but when documents surfaced where she’d entered her ethnicity as Indian, she was forced to do a DNA test to prove it.

It came back with a result that she was one 1 in 1024 Indian, which if you know anything about DNA testing in this area is a mathematically possible, realistically not result, and that’d be on a good day. Bear in mind the average Westerner has 2-3% Neanderthal genes with about 26% of them locked safely away in the overall human genome.

She and her hubby are worth something in the 4-11 million dollar range, which may be why she pulls cringingly awful PR stunts to prove she’s just an ordinary Mommie, like a video of her in the kitchen pretending to be making a meal and asking hubby to pass her a beer. Yeah, right. She held the bottle as gingerly as a vampire would a silver cross. Add in the knife sharp creases in the freshly ironed apron she was wearing, and it was obviously phony as hell. Another of her telling blunders was dragging a child sideways across a campaign stage like a sack of potatoes for a photo-op.

She’s really pushing for the Mommie vote with cracking ideas such as universal free child care, while being suitably vague about where exactly the estimated $70 billion annual cost was going to come from. When an attractive election campaign promise comes with a price tag of that magnitude, reach for your salt and take a pinch.

Robert “Beto” O’Rourke is fourth generation Irish-American in Texas, so the odds of his family nickname actually being the Spanish diminutive Beto are correspondingly small, but it’s meant to charm the pantaloons off the Hispanic vote. The times we live in – a plastic Paddy trying to become a mock Mexican in Texas. It’s the worst sort of pandering that isn’t going down well with Hispanic America, and it’s all the more surprising coming from somebody who’s Texas born and bred, but then again in the rich gated community he was raised in, the only TexMex he ever saw were only there to trim hedges or something.

If you ever have a chance to visit the Alamo, you’ll find a row of plaques on the wall inside listing the names of the men who died fighting Santa Anna for Texas’ independence – a goodly portion of the names are Mexican. The TexMex were already deeply invested in the Republic of Texas long before the first Mr. O’Rourke arrived there on a hoss with his carpet-bag. For someone playing a none too subtle I’m one of you peasants game, what he can’t seem to get through his head is the peons want things like the wall, simply because they’re the ones being most injured by cheap illegal immigrant labour. They don’t call him a pendejo for nothing.

His father was something powerful in state politics and his mother owned a string of department stores, but she also had family political connections stretching back to Jack Kennedy’s administration, so the family was never short of either political clout or a bob or two. But again, he’s another one who was towards the back of the line when God was handing out brains, which means when he’s pressed for an unscripted comment, the result can be somewhat bizarre at times.

After getting the usual liberal media beating up for being variously male, white, straight and not being an atheist, a rare beast in America according to the media, he pronounced in repentance for the aforesaid sins that he wished he’d never been born. It does go to show his major failing – he’s weak. Put the pressure on and he folds. His position on building the wall illustrates the point. Depending on who’s screaming at him at any one moment, he’s either for it, against it or for it but only in some areas. Somebody like Putin would eat him up alive and spit out his wishbone.

In his youth, he behaved like a typical spoiled rich boy, constantly getting himself into scrapes which Daddy Deep Pocket’s influence and money took care of, but not before he’d collected at least one DUI that couldn’t be made to go away. It’s indicative of that unsustainable approach to life endemic to the offspring of the rich – whatever mess they make, there’ll always be a Daddy who’ll zoom in and fix it for them. That doesn’t apply in the Oval Office, which is why Harry Truman had that little sign on his desk saying “The buck stops here”.

His effort to address the criticism that he hasn’t any significant policies, rather than vague SJW platitudes, was to announce a plan to fight climate change. It was only going to cost $5 trillion – yes, you read that right, trillion not billion. Where’s my salt? I’m going to need a monsta sized salt dish for this election cycle. For at least the last five years, climate change has been a political pariah, because after two decades of non-stop alarmist propaganda and no end of the world catastrophe appearing, the electorate are thoroughly sick and tired of the whole issue. It’s even been named climate fatigue, but Beto Butthead assures everyone that unless his plan is adopted, we’ve only got ten years to save the planet.

Only somebody who automatically thinks that the fake news scumbots and the people who always fly champagne first class are America, could be so totally out of touch with the common sense of the peasantry.

He’s also prone to making titanic fuckups, with a saving grace that at times they can be genuinely funny. He threw a rally early on in his candidature which attracted a scattered crowd of about two hundred people, one hundred of whom were fake news scumbots determined to big up such a miserable showing by taking a lot of enfilade shots of each other. As they searched in vain for shots to maximise the impression of how many attendees were actually there, the amplified sound from a Trump rally cranking up barely a mile down the road and with a typical Trump cast of mega fuck off jumbo thousands, totally drowned out every single word Beto uttered. Tender mercies, as they say.

In summary on O’Rourke, I’d go with Jack Posobiec’s observation that “Robert Francis O’Rourke is what you get when you mix all the democrats together. He talks like an Obama, drives like a Kennedy, and lies like a Clinton”.

Cory Booker. One look at those wide open staring eyes, and you can feel the anger management problem he has. It’s resulted in a string of misjudgments, some minor but indicative like rushing to OTT judgement on Jussie Smollett’s hoax hate attack – “The vicious attack on actor Jussie Smollett was an attempted modern-day lynching” – to more concerning ones such as several reports of physical attacks on girlfriends, all of which magically go away, presumably because of NDA covered settlements signed behind the closed doors of lawyer’s offices.

A man with anger issues, which means having bouts of completely losing self-control, is a man you keep away from command of anything of consequence, especially something like the “football” with all the launch codes some secret service agent is always carrying thirty yards behind el prez. He first came to prominence as mayor of New Jersey where he had some lurid interactions with prostitutes which he wiggled out of using the ploy that he was just being “inclusive”, even of sex workers. When you’re actually paying a prostitute to pork her, you’re either nobly supporting the local economy or your inclusiveness credentials are a teensie weensie bit suspect.

His view that the rules don’t apply to him has continued into congress where he broke with tradition and testified against a fellow congressman at his appointment hearing. Other things he’s done such as admitting to leaking confidential documents from congressional hearings means he’s generally seen as a loose cannon in Washington. Nobody wants a liability like that on any committee of importance, so he isn’t.

I once saw him questioning a woman who’d turned up voluntarily to a senate inquiry to give testimony and was being fully cooperative. After five minutes of unnecessary, rude, abrasive and quite slanderous lines of inquiry protected by congressional privilege, she paused, looked up at this bloody idiot glaring down at her, and she simply withdrew all cooperation. Totally. How to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, to quote Lincoln.

Add in the expected manias an unstable personality will inevitably come with, such as being a militant vegan who wants to stop people eating meat, and he’s completely unelectable because even a Californian village idiot can spot an unstable nutter.

Kirsten Gillibrand. I only mention her for some comic relief and as an exemplar of how dull the remaining candidates are. For reasons known only to herself and her court appointed carer, she decided as a NY senator to hold a press conference right in the middle of The Airliner eatery in Iowa City, Iowa. She cranked up her bestest, most impressive speech, and the diners ignored her and the mob of fake news prats swamping their diner.

In the middle of the speech, one of the diner’s patrons got up and asked her to move out of the way please, because she wanted to get at the Ranch dressing she was blocking the way to. Kirsten, rather miffed, moved aside, the customer got her Ranch dressing, went back to her meal, Kirsten resumed her fiery speech and the diners resumed ignoring her. My respect for the good and sensible people of Iowa City, Iowa immediately soared. You honest to God couldn’t make this stuff up.

As if there was any residual doubt about her political judgement, she’s decided that sitting down to a televised one-on-one with a drag queen to thrash out the big policy questions of the day will not only catch a few headlines in the pink press, but will also firmly establish her presidential gravitas with the down home folks of America. She has a deft political touch that’s akin to being hit in the face by a brick.

The rest of the minor contenders such as Julian Castro, Amy Klobuchar, Pete Buttigieg, Andrew Yang and Sherrod Brown are so dull, that in researching them I suffered repeated bouts of self-preservation narcolepsy just trying to find why the hell they were ever elected to any public office in the first place, never mind working out why they might possibly think the were fit to run for President. It’s an involuntary shutdown protocol hardwired into my logic chip that I’ve absolutely no control over. It’s only there to avoid serious long-term damage or complete meltdown of the delicate logic-critical circuitry in my head.

When you’ve got a record number of candidates offering themselves for the party ticket to the big game, it becomes a beauty pageant, and the more closely you look at them, the more apparent it becomes they’re just a collection of turnips prancing around in tutus, and in more than one or two cases when you start digging, they’re very ugly turnips indeed, but they’re all running that jaded old script of rank outsiders at voters. Hey GI, I give you full half hour, beaucoup sucky fucky, anything you wan’, and only five dollah.

There’s not a single tall-standing American hardwood pine among them. If only for the general health of the body politic, Democrat America deserves a much better choice, but as long as it continues to endorse such self-serving mediocrities, that’s what will continue to be presented to it by the DNC maître d’ as the only available choices on the carte d’arseholes to pick from.

In the third and final part of this series, I’ll be stepping away from the particular candidates, instead concentrating more on what I think are the underlying trends, the political judgments being made ahead of 2020 and the consequent strategies being exercised by the different contending parties.

©Pointman

Related articles:

The early Dem candidates for 2020 – part 1.

Click here for all parts in this series.

The rule of law.

The State of the Democrat party.

Will they be devoured by their own children?

An analysis of the Trump election victory.

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