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. . . inspecting the global underbelly: privacy, money laundering, espionage.

"What forbids us to tell the truth, laughingly?"--Horace, Satires, I.24


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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.




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