Thoughts from the ammo line

Ammo Grrrll contemplates THE PRODUCERS’ RUN FOR OFFICE. She writes:

I recently read that Maxine Waters (D-Cal.), the violence-encouraging Representative for Life, gave her daughter $8,000 out of leftover campaign funds. Shocked I am. NOT. Two things: One, I’m sure that it was far from the first time and also, you could add at least one and possibly several zeroes onto that sum and still be accurate. In the Grifter World politicians occupy, $8,000 is pocket change, or one meal at French Laundry in Napa Valley.

And two, the chances that the daughter will have to give it back are slim and none. Ms. Waters is an elderly, mostly senile rich black woman who doesn’t live in the district she “represents.” Questioning her in any way is racist, sexist, and probably a lot more things I am missing, including bigotry toward the insufferably nasty and mean.

Never mind that Mad Max told a rally that Trump-hating people had to “get in [our] faces and chase [us] out of restaurants and away from gas pumps” and the like. That wasn’t some private email to a friend 15 years earlier or an off-the-cuff remark that got picked up by a hot mic. She said it loud and proud and meant every word: Physically attack your conservative “enemies.” Stick your filthy hands in their salads. She got cheers all around for her provocative remarks, which were not remotely categorized as a Threat to Our Precious DemocracyTM.

But I notice I have already strayed from my main point for today. And that is that winning or losing an election is a way to accumulate undreamed of wealth to distribute to all and sundry with the most minimal of oversight. Coolio!

Which gave me a great idea. Remember Mel Brooks’s wonderful movie The Producers? If you missed it, it debuted in 1967, so I don’t think this will be considered a “spoiler,” but here’s the basic plot: Zero Mostel is failed theatrical producer Max Bialystock. He is also an elderly gigolo who woos wealthy elderly widows for money. One fateful day, he runs into a nebbish accountant, Leo Bloom, played brilliantly by the late, great Gene Wilder.

They realize that if they get investors for a play and it’s a success, sadly, you owe those investors some money. BUT, if your play closes on opening night, your investors are just SOL, or Suddenly Outta Luck. You can’t divide up “profits” if there aren’t any.

So they find the WORST play in the history of the genre, written by a deranged German Nazi, and directed by an over-the-top transvestite. The play — remember it’s just 23 years since the Allies defeated the scourge of “literal” Nazism – is called Springtime for Hitler. Oh, did I mention it’s a MUSICAL? And it will open, of course, in New York City, home of a few Jews who might hold a grudge. Zany madcap comedy ensues and, of course, disaster strikes and the wretched production is a sleeper hit! Uh-oh.

Which put me in mind of that perennial loser, Beto O’Rourke, a fake Mexican man-child appropriating his nickname and riding in on a skateboard. What’s not to like? Liz Cheney came to mind, too. She knew herself to be anathema to her hoodwinked constituents, so she could have just retired and given up pretending she gave a rat’s patootie about the state of Wyoming. But where’s the fun in that? She ran anyway, hoovering up a ton of Democrat money and encouraging her Wyoming Democrat fans to re-register as Republicans for the primaries.

Both candidacies were epic fails, the Beto-maniac for the THIRD time, but who even knows how much money the professional loser was allowed to keep? Cheney had already managed to go from a net worth of $6 million to somewhere between $10-44 million (according to the range she has reported) in her brief six-year tenure in office. That alone was a pretty neat trick. Man, I could use money like that! Not for myself, we are content with what we have, but I know quite a few people I would love to help out.

So I am thinking of running for political office with the proviso that I must have absolutely no chance of winning. BUT where I have access to Zuckerbucks and Soros Filthy Lucre. Maybe I will run as a leftwing nutjob in Yavapai County in Arizona, red since 1942!

I will legally change my name to something with broad ethnic appeal, like D’LaShoshanna Maria O’Leary. And I will put forth an agenda so outrageous that all of Hollywood and some billionaire goofballs will open their coffers and shower me with money. Tons of money. Blizzards of money. However – I cannot emphasize this enough – I will be running, but (God forbid) never winning.

My problem will be the same one that sunk Max and Bloom. I need to have a platform SO outrageous that I have NO chance of winning. And that’s very hard in today’s marketplace of ideas which has morphed into an asylum of ideas. Not even to mention a new landscape with Drop Boxes every 15 feet into perpetuity.

Here in Arizona, Little Katie Hobbs, the cowardly abortion mouse (hat tip Ace of Spades) and Goober-natorial candidate, eschewed all debates with opponent Kari Lake. Not me, boy howdy. I would try to get dozens of debates to put my abject lunacy on full display.

I would wear a hoodie – backwards! — over some kind of bizarre lump on my forehead. No problem. I would open each and every such debate with the inspiring words: “Good night, everybody.” Perfectly normal, right?

I would advocate for free abortions up to age two, then a brief hiatus and more legal retroactive abortions when the little rugrats reach their teens. Who could argue with that? As Max Bialystock remarked when Bloom said they couldn’t just murder the actors in the play, “Have you ever eaten with one?” That certainly goes double for teenagers, especially boys. I would probably receive a large donation from Planned Parenthood.

I would support a bill for in utero “gender affirming care” to psych out the preferred gender of the baby and make the necessary transformations even before birth! (You wait – it’s only a matter of time…)

Another plank would be weekly COVID booster “vaccinations,” triple masks and 50 feet of social distancing at all times, including in your own home. That would also mitigate somewhat against unwanted Gaia-destroying newborns. Ready for some of that sweet Pfizer cash!

I would advocate for open borders and universal voting for anyone who can swim or crawl to a Drop Box in Arizona, Texas, or California. Count me in favor of banning of all vehicles except electric buses, banning of all airplanes except private jets. “Stay put, y’all! WE will decide if and when you need to leave your homes.”

My proposed “common sense” gun laws would include confiscation of all Weapons of War such as bolt-action .22 rifles, bb guns, and cap pistols. No magazines that hold over 2 rounds. Nobody needs more than 2 rounds to kill a loved one and themselves for the good of the planet. A $500 surtax on every box of ammo.

Sure, those are great planks for messing over the half of your fellow Americans who are domestic terrorists, rednecks, and white supremacists. That’s the stick. But what about the carrot? Where are the bribes? Fear not. I plan retroactively to pay off the Student Loans of every single American who has ever been to college and even those who just SAY they’ve been to college. How is that any different from guys in dresses who SAY they are a lady? SAYING something is just “living your truth” and counts as reality.

So that’s my new plan for getting unspeakably rich.

The difficulty will be proposing crazy enough things to avoid winning. So, remember, for God’s sake, don’t VOTE for me. Just send money. Lots and lots of money. Thank you and good evening.

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