by Molly Ivors
Dear Republican Voters,
Fred Thompson is just not that into you.
Love,
Molly Ivors
I admit, I'm befuddled by the length of the primary season and the amount of stumping required of presidential candidates, as though an extended campaign season has anything whatever to do with determining the best person for the job. The courtship of voters seems dodgy at best (they come to your door in New Hampshire? Really?), and the courtship of the Heathers--well, the less said about that the better. They're all drinking bitter gall this week over Al Gore (But he can't win a Nobel! We destroyed him!), and looking for their next victim.
No doubt this is Thompson's strategy: to let the Heathers take down Mitt and Rudi and McCain, so all he has to run against is dumbass rednecks like himself, Huckabee and Brownback. Then he gets to be the "sensible Republican," the fatherly strongman with the teenage wife. Men will want to be him, women will want to be her, and all will be right with the world.
If we learned anything in 2000 (and I for one am skeptical of this assertion), it's that voting for a blank slate and hoping that it will all work out in the end is just fucking stupid. So g'head, Fred, stay home with the wife and kids. Sure you'll break KLo's heart, but that's okay. There's always John Bolton!
THIS JUST IN:
Disgruntled Thompson staffer leaks campaign playbook:
