In the business of political endorsements, I have written
that very few carry any real weight or influence with the electorate. Ted Kennedy’s early endorsement of Obama
helped him, as did Chris Christie’s early endorsement of Romney. Beyond a few powerful outliers, however, most
endorsements are meaningful only to a few inside the Beltway pundits and lonely
bloggers who live in their parents’ basement.
Republicans eventually endorse their nominee and Democrats do the
same. As David Putty once deadpanned,
“You gotta support the team”, although you do not need to become a face painter
to prove your partisan loyalty. You just
need to release a public statement.
This season, there is one pending endorsement that has those
who do not inhabit the insular world of political operatives all atwitter. Everyone has been patiently waiting to hear
from Seamus, the Romney family Irish setter that has become famous for his 10
hour ride atop the Romney station wagon during a 1983 vacation trip. Seamus knows Mitt Romney and the Romney
family in a particularly intimate way, having slept at the foot of the bed for
years. His opinion on the presumptive
nominee’s fitness for office has a vote value that a Congressional or celebrity
endorsement could never hope to match.
After much coaxing, Seamus is ready to speak. Today, MSRP
has fought its way to the top of the media dog pile and obtained the first copy
of Seamus’ imminent press release regarding his position on the Romney
candidacy:
FOR IMMEDIATE
RELEASE:
I can no longer remain muzzled.
I have been dogged with questions about my relationship with
the Romney family, and reporters have been sniffing around for weeks for
answers. Today, I unleash the truth.
To begin, I must regretfully withhold my endorsement of Mitt
Romney for President of the United
States, and I will outline my reasons.
He cannot lead. The
Mitt Romney I know is demeaning to others and does not maximize their
capabilities. He would bark a variety of
contradictory commands at me and demand that I refer to him as “Master”. His leadership style was at best
inconsistent, at worst, indicative of a man without full control of his mental
faculties. One minute, he’d shout “Sit”,
then “Stay” then “Come”. Despite my most
enthusiastic efforts, he offered no positive reinforcement beyond the
occasional Snausage treat which frankly, tasted awful. As one of his loyal followers, I could only
run mindlessly in circles and chase my tail.
Needless to say, nothing ever got accomplished. How could such a man inspire confidence at a
Cabinet meeting if all he can muster are one word contradictory orders?
If my treatment is any indication of how he plans to approach
the housing crisis in this country, we should all curl up in the corner on a
frayed piece of carpet and chew on a penny loafer. The American dream of the middle class family
is a nice home in the suburbs. Well, Middle America, how would you like living in one of
Romney’s dream houses like I did? My
slum house had no front door, no insulation, no indoor plumbing, and dirt
floors. It was surrounded by a chain
link fence. I had to go to the bathroom
out of doors like an animal. This is a
peek at Romney’s Third World American nightmare.
On social issues, it is Romney who has learned the art of rolling
over. Mitt Romney may say he is pro-life
today, but I have the medical records to prove that his position “evolved” too
late to save my manhood. It was Mr.
Romney who signed the order for my castration as an innocent pup. Thanks to Romney’s shameless drive to reduce
the surplus population and minimize future expenses, my God-given ability for
procreation was snuffed out. I now sniff
the backsides of other dogs without the hope of offspring. He may appear pro-family with his Mormon
values, but the callous elimination of my dog bone is evidence that under the
cloak of family privacy, he acts anti-litter.
The best you can say is that he clearly favors a Cut and Cap plan, and I
am the victim of that policy prescription.
Romney’s economic policies are no better. I was as close to Mr. Romney as any man, and
yet I can say without reservation that none of his wealth ever trickled down to
me. I was relegated to begging for
scraps from his table, and I fear that his fiscal policies will force America’s poor
to do the same. If he were to be elected
and follow through on his promise to pursue the Ryan budget, it will be the
voters who will be forced to knock over kitchen trash cans for sustenance. It will be the voters who will be forced to
gnaw on sticks for nutrition. Like me,
you’ll be forced to accept only those handouts that the Master deems necessary
to keep you obedient. This is not my America. What are we, German shepherds? Heil, Herr Romney?
I know that it has been said that I loved long trips
strapped inside a box on top of the family car. This is just another example of Romney
believing that separate but equal facilities are acceptable for travel. Paging Rosa Parks! She would not move to the back of the bus,
and I should not have been forced to the top of the car. Romney didn’t stop there – he forced me to
drink from a different water foundation than the rest of the family. Discrimination is ugly in all of its forms,
but Mitt Romney does not agree. He
treated me as less than human, and that is wrong.
Don’t be fooled by his soft tones and the playful melodic
cadence of his voice on the stump. Don’t
allow a few patronizing scratches behind the ears distract you. Four years of Mitt Romney will trap Americans
behind an invisible fence that will separate you from freedom
indefinitely.
Every dog has his day.
Today is mine. I cannot endorse
man who rubbed my nose in my own poop to “teach me a lesson”, no matter how
many milk bones he offers me. I will not
be bought, although after this hits the press, I might be sold.
Seamus
This Country’s Best Friend
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