The 2008 election results are in!

I know a few foreigners, and sometimes when we chat, they’ll ask me about the election. They’ll ask me who I think is going to win, and if things are getting exciting. And then, they’ll sometimes ask if I could explain the American election process to them, because it seems complicated. I’ll pause, wanting to make sure I get the description just right.

“Sure, no problem,” I tell them. “The best way to describe it is this: It’s really, really retarded.”

Our election process is dumb. Two people run, and each picks a running mate. Then, each team heads out into the world to call the other team a couple of assholes. It’s important to do a good job of calling your opponents assholes, and to effectively deflect asshole references directed at you. Then there is the talent portion of the contest, in which each candidate demonstrates how well he can infuriate Tom Brokaw. Then eveningwear, and then the swimsuit competition.

However, ultimately, each election is decided based on media photography.

Consider the past few elections and you’ll see I’m right. As you think about each pair, try to think like Joe the Plumber. Joe isn’t really thinking about his political allegiance or his plumbing business. Joe is being fed images between reality TV shows, like all Americans. (You know, except you. You’re actually smart and awesome. And you can fly.)

Let’s look at our first pair:

Who are you going to pick? The guy who looks near death, or the guy who looks like he’s totally going to nail the soccer mom down the street? Now look at the next election:

Again, the choice is between a walking corpse and a guy who plays the saxophone on Arsenio while wearing badass sunglasses. Even Bob Dole said privately that Bob Dole wouldn’t vote for Bob Dole if Bob Dole didn’t have a vested interest in winning because Bob Dole was Bob Dole. Bob Dole!

Now let’s check out 2000:

Okay, our choice is a cool party guy who snorted coke off of the backs of hookers while waterskiing nude through a half pipe made from the bones of legendary rock bands, or a dude who breathes fire. Easy choice.

Now obviously, by 2004, Bush had proven himself to no longer be a legendary party guy and had lost the confidence of a lot of the country, but check out the choice we had to make:

I mean, he’s older, whiter, and his ears stick out more. He can barely speak English, and he’s being serviced by a turkey. But just look at Kerry. This country can’t have a president who can’t even catch a fucking football.

Okay, caught up to the present. So the question is, who will win on Tuesday? John McCain, or Barack Obama? Well, let’s look at the evidence:

Okay, wait… that’s a pretty bad picture of McCain. Caught at a bad moment; it could happen to anyone. Let’s try again.

Hmm. I’m thinking he was in a pirate play, or perhaps yelling at kids to get off of his lawn. Try again.

Hang on, try this:

Wait.

Oh, come on! Now he’s just doing it on purpose.

Sorry, John. You seem like a good guy with some good ideas, but I don’t think you’re going to win this one. Not based on that photo record. It’s late in the game, but you might think about getting some sunglasses or a sax. Or doing more drugs. Or maybe wearing a funny hat. But make sure it’s funny in a “cool guy” way, not a “what a douchebag” way.

Oh, and lay off the telephone calls. Barack never calls me, but your people are on me like three times a day. For real, John… put the phone down. And the sax. Get a saxophone, and get some hot chicks to stand around you. It’s your only chance.

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