That giant sigh you hear is from right wing true believers who are just cottoning onto the fact that no matter how passionate they are, no matter how loudly they scream, the great, woolly political machine is going to deny them their hopes and dreams.
They wanted, just once, to feel good about whom they were voting for. No more compromises (that awful, Communistic word). They didn’t even care if their man or woman won the general election. They just wanted to settle down in front of the flat screen next October, break out the pork rinds, and watch their champion kick that skinny holier-than-thou foreigner’s butt all over the debate set.
So what if the Pretender stays in the White House, they say. At least he’d be a good target. Hating him viscerally has been, and would continue to be, a cleansing, cathartic experience. Romney? He’s like a bag of oatmeal. Bland, boring, and you get no joy from punching it. The scary thing about him, of course, is that he manages to pander to so many people that he might actually win, and then we could be stuck with that telephone answering machine voice of his for eight years.
Maybe the answer is a third-party candidacy. Smash-Mouth Newt with Rick Santorum as his purifying running mate. That would make the establishment sit up, all right. A three-way debate where our boy could slap Obama and Romney around until their eyes reel. We’ll have some melted Velveeta drizzled on those pork rinds, thank you very much.