Sunday, 6 November 2016

What I'm looking forward to about the US election is the definitive book about the campaign - and I don't mean the one Bernie Sanders is writing!

Wow, an exit sign! Amazing!
I wonder if American lefties feel the same sense of outrage watching Fox News's domestic political coverage as British conservatives feel when watching any BBC or Sky political programme which doesn't involve Andrew Neil? I certainly hope so: it would ease one's frustration to know that, somewhere out there, lefties are foaming at the mouth over how dreadfully unfairly their side is being treated. (Though, to be honest, the comparison doesn't really work, because Americans lefties don't have to pay for Fox News if they don't want to, whereas British conservatives don't have much choice in the matter.) Anyhow, back to Fox's "Fanny Pack" (I know I can't really say that, but it made me laugh when it popped into my head just now)...

...the four panelists were, unsurprisingly, infinitely more charming and articulate and just plain interesting than either of the two presidential candidates they were discussing: that's why Tuesday night/Wednesday morning is going to be such a hard watch.

Hey, great carpet!
I hope Trump wins, because, the closer we get to the election, the more Hillary Clinton looks and sounds like Bette Davis in Whatever Happened to Baby Jane. Screaming like some deranged harpie at a televised rally last night, she made the same horrible, evil noise as Margret Hamilton's Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz might have done if she'd had access to a 120 decibel megaphone: I have rarely heard a more rebarbative racket. As for her weird facial contortions and spastic limb movements, they reminded me of one of the malfunctioning robots in the current television series, Westworld: one could imagine a team of technicians in the wings frantically fiddling with the ropey old Clintbot's wireless controls, trying to get it to stop jerking and SCREECHING. The longer she went on, the more one worried she'd end up being carted off the stage by secret service agents while singing "Daisy, Daisy, Give Me Your Answer Do" very, very slowly.

What an incredible wall!
Do I really want Trump to win?  No, not really. He's horrible. But he's marginally less horrible than his opponent, and, should he get in, he'd annoy the bejasus out of every leftie around the globe for the next four years, which would be amusing. And a loss for Mrs C. might mean she'd finally end up in prison, where she evidently belongs - not that improbable, given that the former New York FBI chief, James Kallstrom, recently described the Clintons as "a crime family" and the Clinton Foundation as "a cesspool".  (I wonder of Bill would bother visiting her in the hoosegow? Doubt it.)

Whoever wins, what I'm really, really looking forward to is a big fat, juicy book about the campaign
written by some red-hot journalist or historian  - preferably one of each, working in tandem. Ideally, they would be political neutrals, but, if that proves impossible, one Republican and one Democrat would do fine: the only stipulation would be that neither of them would have supported either of the two main candidates during the campaign. It seems highly unlikely that there won't be any number of campaign aides and managers and disappointed politicians lining up to spill the beans about what was happening behind the scenes. If someone can't write a classic, unputdownable account of this political campaign, we are doomed as a race.
A TV camera! Some of my best friends are TV cameras!

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