Manhunt

An Overdose of Hope

September 08, 2012

Multiple Pages
An Overdose of Hope

The Democrats are done weaving their web in Charlotte, and wow, what a web it was—an intricate lattice of multicolored Silly String that included everyone and said nothing.

Did you know that Democrats like the blacks? And the Hispanics? And the gays? And women? We didn’t know that. Now we do.

Did you know the Democrats have a plan to make the next four years better than the last four? Really? We didn’t. And after watching their convention, we still don’t.

All we know after watching it is that we all need to go forward together. ALL of us. Together. United. As one. No dissent. And no cutting in line. Forward. Together. MOVE it!

We’ve all moved forward out of the Stone Age and progressed as a society to the point where black men can make death threats against Barack Obama, Hispanic female delegates feel unafraid to say they want to kill Mitt Romney, and everyone’s cool with it! Because politics is all about being cool. As actor Kal “Kumar” Penn—whose nose is buried so far up Obama’s ass that it’s sticking out of his mouth—enthused from the convention sidelines, he “felt like it was cool to be engaged in politics” the first time he laid his fawning brown eyes upon Barack Obama. What a cool thing to say!

“There obviously wasn’t enough hope last time, so if you’re feeling all hoped-out, keep hope alive.”

Because Republicans are the only party that makes things racial, the DNC was blacker than a family reunion at the Atlanta Airport Holiday Inn. Democratic strategists are obviously worried about the zero percent of black voters that currently support Romney and decided to aggressively target that zero percent with an endless parade of melanin mouthpieces. Congressmen John Lewis and James Clyburn—both of whom, against all available evidence, claimed they were called “nigger” after the Affordable Health Care Act was passed, spoke in marble-mouthed tones of how they dreamed of a day when it was no longer necessary for black politicians to falsely allege they were called “nigger” to win votes. Emanuel Cleaver II (a black man) of the Congressional Black Caucus (a black organization), who falsely claimed someone purposely spit on him during the same incident where Clyburn and Lewis falsely claimed they were called “nigger,” was also granted a speaking slot: “We are one! We might be black, brown, yella—it does not matter! We are one!” Hmm….one color seems to be missing.

Severely included were the Hispanics, or the Latinos, or the Chicanos, or the illegal aliens, or whatever those diminutive scamps are calling themselves these days. Speedy Gonzalez’s cousin delivered a heart-wrenching speech about the DREAM Act. Then the Frito Bandito’s mother spoke movingly about how she swam the Rio Grande with her small son hidden safely beneath one of her sagging breasts. The Taco Bell Chihuahua, Señor Wences, and José Jiménez all delivered speeches entirely in Spanish. And none of it—no, NONE of it, you racist!—constituted racial pandering.

This year’s DNC was so gay that Freddie Mercury cried pink tears from heaven. A video was shown that, ten seconds in, demonstrated how society could benefit from attending a congenial LGBT potluck dinner. A young man named Zack Wahls gave a speech about being raised by lesbian parents, which is one of the most dire and pressing issues currently facing this country. Barney Frank slobbered all over the mic about his gay marriage because gay marriage affects all of us, even though it doesn’t really affect many of us at all.

Sandra Fluke, the woman who couldn’t afford all the birth control she needs even though it’s very cheap, spoke ominously of the Wicked War on Women’s Wombs. Several other women spoke about being women and how women’s issues affect all women and how women need to focus on being women and how they’re not at all maybe a tiny bit narcissistically fixated on being women and therefore unwittingly reinforcing negative stereotypes about women.

Ex-president and serial philanderer Bill Clinton gave the convention’s best speech, blaming the Republicans for everything and sidestepping his culpability in the subprime loan debacle and for signing NAFTA.

Vice President Joe Biden literally misused the word “literally” at least five times, at which point we stopped counting. The country has “literally stood on the brink of a new Depression,” it was “literally on the verge of liquidation,” it “literally amazes him” that important issues “literally hung in the balance,” and how “the direction we turn is—not figuratively—literally in your hands.” We literally didn’t know you could turn a country’s direction using your hands. A film showed Biden claiming that Obama “has a backbone like a ramrod.” Are we reading too much into that?

His ears spread wide, a haggard Barack Obama took the stage looking as if he’d lost roughly 50 pounds of mojo since 2008. Openly groping for the female vote, he acknowledged his love for his steroidal wife Michelle and his adorable daughters, Bulimia and Sausage. He spoke of hope, and of moving forward, and of moving forward hopefully, claiming that he wasn’t merely peddling “blind optimism or wishful thinking.”

The convention’s theme was summed up in a single word: FORWARD. The Republicans want to go back, but the Democrats want to go forward, as a possibly sloshed Jennifer Granholm screamed at conventioneers like a transsexual Howard Dean. Everyone reassured us that Obama inherited a bad situation and will need four more years before he gives us the slightest inkling that we’re moving forward. He needs to finish the job he started. Going forward is always good, even if you’re headed toward an iceberg.

And the only way we can move forward is together. The Democratic Ministry of Truth informs us that “Government’s the only thing we all belong to,” whether we choose to or not. An “actress and advocate” named Kerry Washington, who from the looks of things is yet another strong, intelligent, sassy, smart, empowered young black woman, cheerily uttered the vaguely terrifying line, “You may not be thinking about politics, but politics is thinking about you.”

The only thing we need to move forward together is hope. More hope. There obviously wasn’t enough hope last time, so if you’re feeling all hoped-out, keep hope alive. They hope you keep hoping. Keep re-hoping. Hope is our soma. Hope is our only hope, even though the guy who did those HOPE posters for the last election turned out to be a plagiarist and liar.

Keep hoping until your ass falls off, even though Obama promised to cut the deficit in half but has piled $5 trillion on top of it. Keep hoping even though he pledged to unite us but shattered us all like glass. Keep hoping through four more years of violent flash mobs and speech codes and moral panics and psych meds.

Keep hoping until your brain explodes, because under Barack Obama, we finally have a nation where people of all colors, genders, sexual orientations, and creeds can be imprisoned for life without trial.

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