Hello! My name is Amoroni. I'm Mitt Romney's Guardian Angel. (Yes, all you angel-agnostics out there, we do exist. We are, however, quite ineffective--we spend most of our time Thinking Good Thoughts on all types of clouds for our wards. When we do try to intervene, we are almost always ignored. Still, we sometimes try.)
Before the debate, I was willing to jump off a very comfortable cumulus and confront my client. The cloud turned out to be a bit too fluffy; when I awoke, the debate had begun. I wanted to appear to him just before dawn on the morning of October 3rd, while he was still more than half asleep. This is how I envisioned our dialogue:
Mitt, O Mitt!
Yes, who is it?
My name is Amoroni, your Guardian Angel--I have important advice for you. Just lie there and listen, OK?
(No response)
I want to comfort you, because you are going to lose the election. Here is my consolation: You are a very successful man, a very rich man. True, you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, but you were also born with a mighty fine collection of neurons. You knew what you wanted to do and you did it. You have been wildly successful in business.
It's true!
Very few get as far ahead as you have. (True, you didn't make things, you're no Steve Jobs or Bill Gates--but you sure know how to turn a profit.) That's the Good News. Now for the Bad News.
ZZZZZZ
You're not presidential. All those gaffes! Mr. I-love-to-fire-people-I'll bet-you-10, 000 dollars, I was willing to look the other way, as Angels must do if they are to remain sane, but I had to face facts. How you handled the Libya attack was really terrible. A reckless attempt to score a few points! Announcing that President Obama was sympathizing with the terrorists! You were disgraceful; very unpresidentail behavior.
ZZZZZZ
I was willing to look the other way as you flip-flopped on nearly every issue since you were governor. We know what the problem is: the party is the problem. It is as far right as a quasar is far light. But thee are other problems: You look wooden. You are inarticulate. You are too ambitious--even for a politician. You're not likable. You can't sing. So be happy with what you have--a big family, a big circle of friends/business partners, and big bucks in banks all over the globe. You're not going to win, Governor! But you're rich and famous. Be consoled!
Well, that was what I was going to say before that first debate. I float corrected. You shone! When you memorize speeches, you can indeed deliver them well. You were as aggressive and alert as Obama was non-combative and almost narcoleptic. True, nearly everything said drove the fact-checkers wild, but I obviously have to take back my previous judgement: on October 3rd, you looked very presidential indeed.
But that's only half the story--To find out why Obama took all the blows and pulled few punches, I have to turn this essay over to an old devil I know only too well.
Hello! My name is Asoporaph, the Evil Spirit who took possession of Obama during the debate. I made him look tired, indifferent and aloof. (I keep whispering to him, Don't respond to such stuff! Remain dignified! The strategy apparently worked.) As for Mitt, (this Evil Genius was quite proud of him), he told the wildest lies convincingly--He would balance the budget and yet cut taxes for the rich--deep cuts that, get this--would be revenue-neutral. He loves education. He feels for the poor. He loves the middle class. He loves the military, etc.--wow, what a performance. I hope my boss, the Prince of Lies, was watching.
I even dulled Obama's senses so much that he didn't even mention Mitt's condescending remark that 47% of Americans were not worth his concern, since they saw themselves as victims and moochers. Bravo!
Do you remember when Romney said that he loved Big Bird, the symbol of Public Television's educational programs for the young, but he was not going to borrow money from China to pay for it? Instead of replying as he should have, I made the president talk about his grandma. If it weren't for me, he would have said something like this:
Governor Romney says he will strengthen education. The Public Broadcasting System is an infinitesimal part of the budget. It provides first-rate educational services, It reaches millions of children, teaching them to read and do math. It is very inexpensive and very effective. Yes, he says he loves Big Bird, Yes, he says he loves the middle class. But don't be fooled: he will show his love by trussing them up and serving them to his buddies for dinner. There is a crisis of education in America. If we just talk and don't do the walk, we might one day have to depend on China for charity...
He would have hammered away at Romney's infamous 47% remark. He would have decimated the lie that the Democrats, of all people, were intent on weakening Medicare. He would have scoffed at Romeny's pie-in-the sky promises backed up with pie-in-your-face math. He would have told the truth. Isn't that what you expected him to do?
Radical conservatives, you have me to thank for the president's disastrous performance. I, Asoporaph, kept the great man half asleep. Is he still sleepy? Karl Rove, let's hope so--but I'm a nervous demon, and am not so sure. Even Evil Spirits have nightmares, and this is mine:
He just might wake up.
Before the debate, I was willing to jump off a very comfortable cumulus and confront my client. The cloud turned out to be a bit too fluffy; when I awoke, the debate had begun. I wanted to appear to him just before dawn on the morning of October 3rd, while he was still more than half asleep. This is how I envisioned our dialogue:
Mitt, O Mitt!
Yes, who is it?
My name is Amoroni, your Guardian Angel--I have important advice for you. Just lie there and listen, OK?
(No response)
I want to comfort you, because you are going to lose the election. Here is my consolation: You are a very successful man, a very rich man. True, you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, but you were also born with a mighty fine collection of neurons. You knew what you wanted to do and you did it. You have been wildly successful in business.
It's true!
Very few get as far ahead as you have. (True, you didn't make things, you're no Steve Jobs or Bill Gates--but you sure know how to turn a profit.) That's the Good News. Now for the Bad News.
ZZZZZZ
You're not presidential. All those gaffes! Mr. I-love-to-fire-people-I'll bet-you-10, 000 dollars, I was willing to look the other way, as Angels must do if they are to remain sane, but I had to face facts. How you handled the Libya attack was really terrible. A reckless attempt to score a few points! Announcing that President Obama was sympathizing with the terrorists! You were disgraceful; very unpresidentail behavior.
ZZZZZZ
I was willing to look the other way as you flip-flopped on nearly every issue since you were governor. We know what the problem is: the party is the problem. It is as far right as a quasar is far light. But thee are other problems: You look wooden. You are inarticulate. You are too ambitious--even for a politician. You're not likable. You can't sing. So be happy with what you have--a big family, a big circle of friends/business partners, and big bucks in banks all over the globe. You're not going to win, Governor! But you're rich and famous. Be consoled!
Well, that was what I was going to say before that first debate. I float corrected. You shone! When you memorize speeches, you can indeed deliver them well. You were as aggressive and alert as Obama was non-combative and almost narcoleptic. True, nearly everything said drove the fact-checkers wild, but I obviously have to take back my previous judgement: on October 3rd, you looked very presidential indeed.
But that's only half the story--To find out why Obama took all the blows and pulled few punches, I have to turn this essay over to an old devil I know only too well.
Hello! My name is Asoporaph, the Evil Spirit who took possession of Obama during the debate. I made him look tired, indifferent and aloof. (I keep whispering to him, Don't respond to such stuff! Remain dignified! The strategy apparently worked.) As for Mitt, (this Evil Genius was quite proud of him), he told the wildest lies convincingly--He would balance the budget and yet cut taxes for the rich--deep cuts that, get this--would be revenue-neutral. He loves education. He feels for the poor. He loves the middle class. He loves the military, etc.--wow, what a performance. I hope my boss, the Prince of Lies, was watching.
I even dulled Obama's senses so much that he didn't even mention Mitt's condescending remark that 47% of Americans were not worth his concern, since they saw themselves as victims and moochers. Bravo!
Do you remember when Romney said that he loved Big Bird, the symbol of Public Television's educational programs for the young, but he was not going to borrow money from China to pay for it? Instead of replying as he should have, I made the president talk about his grandma. If it weren't for me, he would have said something like this:
Governor Romney says he will strengthen education. The Public Broadcasting System is an infinitesimal part of the budget. It provides first-rate educational services, It reaches millions of children, teaching them to read and do math. It is very inexpensive and very effective. Yes, he says he loves Big Bird, Yes, he says he loves the middle class. But don't be fooled: he will show his love by trussing them up and serving them to his buddies for dinner. There is a crisis of education in America. If we just talk and don't do the walk, we might one day have to depend on China for charity...
He would have hammered away at Romney's infamous 47% remark. He would have decimated the lie that the Democrats, of all people, were intent on weakening Medicare. He would have scoffed at Romeny's pie-in-the sky promises backed up with pie-in-your-face math. He would have told the truth. Isn't that what you expected him to do?
Radical conservatives, you have me to thank for the president's disastrous performance. I, Asoporaph, kept the great man half asleep. Is he still sleepy? Karl Rove, let's hope so--but I'm a nervous demon, and am not so sure. Even Evil Spirits have nightmares, and this is mine:
He just might wake up.
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