The Anti-Bob Gets Advice from
Political Shaman Dick Morris
The Anti-Bob:
Dick, you've got to help me here. I'm getting trashed by Bob, the Sex
Candidate. Isn't there anyone really angry at Bob? What do the hookers say?
You still have your toe in that camp, so to speak, don't you?
Morris:
Well, Anti-Bob, obviously the hookers are up in arms. But that's not worth much.
What sort of strategy did you have in mind? Vote for the Anti-Bob: He will
privatize sex? That'll never work, not until people get sick of government
brothels--which they obviously haven't even experienced yet.
The Anti-Bob:
So what do you recommend?
Morris:
You've got to triangulate, just like Bob. He dangles Gore in his left
hand, making the Gore dogs salivate, and Bush in his right hand, making
the Bush dogs salivate. Meanwhile he stands like Allah in the Great
Unwashed Middle, presenting a paradise of Budweiser ambrosia and Federal
Whoris. That Bob is bad. If you want to win, you've got to be badder
than he is.
The Anti-Bob:
Just how bad do I have to be, Dick?
Morris:
Okay, you're the Anti-Bob, the alternative to Bob. So you need an Anti-Gore
and an Anti-Bush to neutralize each of those two.
The Anti-Bob:
Isn't Bush the Anti-Gore, and vice-versa?
Morris:
No, no you big Anti-Dummy. I mean, Mr. Future President. Gore and Bush are
exactly the same; they're just fighting over which crowd gets to divide the
tax-payer spoils. The Anti-Gore is a mirror of Gore: he appeals to the same
people and divides the vote. His job is to show that Gore is a fraud, and
that he, the Anti-Gore, is the real candidate. The same for the Anti-Bush.
The Anti-Bush will demonstrate that Jesus didn't change Bush's heart enough,
that Bush won't cut taxes enough, hell, that Bush ain't even a real Republican.
The Anti-Bob:
Yeah? And then what about me? You know I could wrap my tenacles around
your body, absorb all your precious bodily fluids, and leave you as a smoldering
heap of burnt sand.
Morris:
Now, now, Mr. Future President. The Anti-Bush and Anti-Gore will drive everyone
back to the middle, and that will turn the real action into a contest between
Bob and the Anti-Bob, between him and you.
The Anti-Bob:
And then? How do I whip Bob's ass?
Morris:
You leave that to me, he he. At the right time, we'll create a little
scandal that will drive Bob right off the map. He he. Sex candidate
indeed. Maybe we'll have reporters catch him in bed with a dead girl
or a live boy. He he.
