Tag: presidential election

As Is by Mike Gold: Old Joe, My Ass

As Is by Mike Gold: Old Joe, My Ass

We live in a political world, The one we can see and feel. But there’s no one to check. It’s all a stacked deck. We all know for sure that it’s real. “Political World,” written by Bob Dylan.

It’s time to get real. As of this writing, there are four presidential candidates who are likely — but not assuredly — to be heading their respective political party tickets.

The Democratic Party has Joe Biden, age 81. The Fascist Party has Donald Trump, age 77, although it is vaguely possible that they will have to share their Orange Pumpkin with our federal prison system. The Fossil Fuel party has Joe Manchin, age 76. He has yet to announce for president, but he has said he will not run for reelection to the Senate. I guess he’s afraid Exxon will take his yacht away.

(Fun Fact: Manchin, who has a cash register in his yacht’s master bedroom, is the right wing Democratic senator from West Virginia, which is a land-locked state. Anomalies abound.)

Finally, there is Bizarro Bobby Kennedy, age 69, from the Kill-Your-Neighbor Party. Unlike such movies as Godfather II and From Russia With Love, Bizarro Bobby adds credence to the philosophy “sequels-aren’t-as-good-as-the-originals.

That means Bizarro Bobby, at 69 years of age, is the cub in the pack. Ergo, “too old” is preposterously relative. I know a shitload of people who died before their 69th birthday, and even more who died before they turned 76, 77 or 81.

But let’s hope to High Hell that Bizarro Bobby is too apeshit for the electorate. That’s a big assumption after Trump and, unlike Trump (at least this week), Bizarro Bobby is pro-abortion… as long as said abortion occurs within three months of the zygote’s propagation. Recently, he’s tried to walk back that part, which shows us just how feckless the bastard is. But he is the baby on the railroad tracks so we’ll grade the others on the curve.

Manchin, 76. Trump, 77. Biden, 81. That’s a five-year span, yet it is Biden who is targeted as “too old.”

Friends, age is not the issue here.

It’s Kamala Harris. Continue reading “As Is by Mike Gold: Old Joe, My Ass”

Weird Scenes Inside The Gold Mind #113: Blame The Pollsters?

Weird Scenes Inside The Gold Mind #113: Blame The Pollsters?

I get it. We want to have the election results at, roughly, 7:01 PM Eastern Time on election night. More so this year — the Blues want their long national nightmare to come to an end, and the Reds want to get back to uncovering pederasts in the basements of Democratic Party pizza parlors. We all have important stuff to do.

So we’ve got to find a meaningful way to twiddle our thumbs. We can blame Covid for screwing up the process, but we really don’t want to piss it off. We can blame long lines or rigged mail deliveries or drive-by militia members sorely deprived of pizza. Or, being a gaggle of pussies, we can do what we’ve been doing since Florida discovered Chads without Jeremys twenty years ago: we can blame the polls.

This is stupid. The polls are not the province of seers. They do not, and are not supposed to, tell you in advance who is going to win any election. If you’ve got money riding on the outcome, and I used to before my daughter started warning my marks, looking to the polls for relief is a waste of good mojo. The polls are nothing more than tools for political organizers and for reporters desperate to fill time or space. Continue reading “Weird Scenes Inside The Gold Mind #113: Blame The Pollsters?”