Posted on 03/29/2016 8:28:04 AM PDT by Sean_Anthony
Trump is, at any rate, a better man than Hillary.
In the ‘70s British sci-fi comedy ‘The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’, the interstellar government was ruled over by a two-headed alien named Zaphod Beeblebrox. Beeblebrox was elected President not because of his serious mind or his experience or capabilities but because the Presidency of the Galaxy was decided on popularity, rather like a prom-king, and Beeblebrox, a rather dull-witted “extreme” screwball, captured the imagination of a majority of voters. One of his acts as President was to steal an experimental starship he was christening.
Advanced technology had turned politics into purely a form of entertainment.
Now this was a work of fiction, but Douglass Adams, creator of the Hitchhiker series, clearly saw the way the wind was blowing; modern technology was elevating the cult of celebrity, making positions of high profile such as the Presidency increasingly about appearances and media savvy to a happily ill-informed voting public.
Have to admit, I’m about ready to check out of this election with a wave and a sincere “So long and thanks for all the fish”.
Celebitian
I’d rather listen to Vogon Poety than hear one of Hillary’s speeches.
The Trump candidacy hung in the air in much the same way that bricks don’t.
Arnold Schwarzenegger + Jesse Ventura = Donald J. Trump.
Enjoy, America!
I’d rather be fed to the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Tra’al.
Throw in a little Dwayne Elizondo Mountain Dew Herbert Camacho.
Don't Panic!!!
did you remember your towel?
I can imagine Cruz reciting some Vogon poetry.......
Oh freddled gruntbuggly,
Thy micturations are to me,
As plurdled gabbleblotchits,
On a lurgid bee,
That mordiously hath blurted out,
Its earted jurtles,
Into a rancid festering confectious organ squealer.
[drowned out by moaning and screaming]
Now the jurpling slayjid agrocrustles,
Are slurping hagrilly up the axlegrurts,
And living glupules frart and slipulate,
Like jowling meated liverslime,
Groop, I implore thee, my foonting turling dromes,
And hooptiously drangle me,
With crinkly bindlewurdles,
Or else I shall rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon,
See if I don’t.
So if the election has come down to picking royalty for the prom, well, of course, I am going for The Donald as Prom King.
If I had my druthers, I was backing Scott Walker until he dropped out, as he seemed to have sufficiently honed and polished skills to competently counter the actions of the liberalism now grown sluggish and exercising only the lizard portion of their brain. His formula for how to get things done in Wisconsin (which had been a hotbed for liberalism for well over a century) seemed to be working well, and it looked like it could scale up to a national level.
But alas, through a combination of what may have been intentional blocking of Governor Walker from much active participation in the debates (count the minutes allotted to him during the early debates), and the paucity of funding, he was forced out early, before anything got really interesting.
I still admire both The Donald and Ted Cruz, but from afar, and this most recent clash over completely irrelevant issues concerning their respective spouses does nothing to enhance the resume of either. That was just pushing and shoving in the school hallway by the lockers.
Great analogy! Trump can’t do too much harm - and that is about the best you can say about him.
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