A Major Announcment

The 2008 election is more than a year and a half away, and already these politicians are running around, claiming they’re all God’s gift to America. Well, let me tell you: I’m fed up. I’m fed up with both parties, and can’t see myself supporting any of the minor third parties, because, frankly, those guys are nuts.

So I’m doing what any rational person would do. I’m running for President too. In 2008. And maybe 2012 too, you know, should we lose In ’08.

I am forming my own political party, based on the writings of the genius of our times, Weird Al Yankovic. I thought of calling it the Yankotarian party, but that sounded too close to being a party named after the joys of self-love. Instead I’ve settled on Yankovicratican.

Now, just as the Republican party turned the thoughtful musings of Abraham Lincoln into a party based on foreign domination and obscene corporate raping and pillaging of the American economy, and the Democratic party took the reasoned self-reliance of Jefferson and turned into the handout to everyone, hate-America-first party, the Yankovicraticans will undoubtedly wander from the teachings of our spiritual leader, Mr. Weird Alfred Yankovic.

Don’t get me wrong: the Yankovicraticans do support wars of foreign domination, if only to steal their treasure and take their women spread democracy, love and Fleetwood Mac across the Globe. We’re also cool with the whole “government giving us money” vibe that the democrats like, but instead of handouts, which are a bummer ‘cause you’ve got to go to the welfare office or the unemployment office and wait around, I’m thinking we’ll go with the government will just mail everybody $100 a month for pizza or beer or guns whatever, no questions asked. Sort of like FEMA debit cards for everyone.

It is important that this juncture I disclose that Mr. Al has nothing to do with the Yankovicraticans, and does not know about our existence, and, furthermore, might likely, if he were to know about us, would probably denounce our movement and demand we stop using his most sacred of names in our materials. So let’s not tell him, Mmmm’kay? Let this be a surprise, so when we take the White House in 2008, or 2012, we can invite him to an inaugural ball, and he’ll think it was like cool that a President would invite him to a ball, but he’ll think it was like some Bush or Clinton relative that won, so he wouldn’t be suspecting it when we jump out from behind the punch bowl and like shout “surprise!” and everything.

Yeah, that would be cool.

Anyway, as your President I promise to do very little. No expensive government programs that just don’t work anyway, no expensive excursions into foreign lands; unless those lands have a) ample numbers English-speaking inhabitants, b) are a strategic source of Margaritas, or c) threatened our American spring-break way of life. I’m not going to bug you every ten minutes with presidential news conferences, and if those jerk reporters who pester the president on his way to his helicopter must ask me questions, I promise to only answer in Pig Latin, so the news people won’t know what to do and won’t bother showing you the tapes on some sort of bullcrap “special report”. I promise that I WILL spend as much time as possible at Camp David, and arranging State Dinners to invite Mary Lou Retton and Elizabeth Shue to. I might even pick up a new hobby, like golf or something.

I am accepting applications for the role of my Vice President. I have my Secretary of War all settled, but other cabinet positions are open. Oh, and we’ll be renaming the Cabinet. Cabinet; that’s a stuffy name. I mean, it’s weird. It’s a piece of furniture for goodness sakes. Who’s going to take seriously a President taking advice from a piece of freakin’ furniture. So I’m going to rename the thing and appoint a Presidential Wet Bar. I pledge to hire Isaac from “Love Boat” to be my First Barkeep. I pledge to stock only top-shelf booze: no cheap imitation Russian vodka for this magnificent country.

I am neither left wing nor right wing, but instead chicken wing. I am buffalo wing. I will be the drumstick of American politics – somewhat crude, definitely funny looking, makes a mess, but ultimately satisfying.

I ask you to join me on this journey, and together we will scarf down all the free sandwhiches and political-event chicken kabobs we can get some other sucker to pay for.

Kal For America, America for Kal