Monday, June 30, 2008

Thank you, Barack!

Of all the shattered ceilings and racial barriers and political realignments the primary season has highlighted, one future outcome has me chirping more than any other: I no longer need to wait until my early 50s to run for president.

Barack is only 46 as the Democratic nominee, so it seems silly--if not downright irresponsible--for me to wait until 2032 when I could kick things off in 2048. Or heck, if he wins, 46 will sound long in the tooth, accomplished, even ordinary. That would free me to run at 42 and represent a new generation of politcal thinkers suddenly fatigued with all the ancient candidates in their late 40s and (gasp) 50s. I used to think 52 was pushing it on the experience front, but if I wait that long in this climate I'll be a political dinosaur.

Hence my new plan: run for president in 2024, which complicates our name. But after many hard minutes of thinking, I decided not to change the campaign name just yet; frankly, you could sooner kick over Everest than budge this movement. So we are the same in name, though changed in urgency and purpose.

When I make big decisions like these, I like to dress up a little, as you can see.

Wednesday, November 07, 2007

New fists in the ring

Things have looked rather bleak on the campaign front, I'm afraid, for quite some time. But then I glanced over the last post this morning and found an extra comment tacked on from Holly Togel. That name sounded awfully familiar, and then her threat that she "plays dirty" sent me digging into the It Could Be Wirsing archives. And there it was: Miss Togel, too, is running for president in 2032. She's the one who pledged to paint the White House blue? Yeah, that's her, the artisitic type.

Can this really be you, Holly, or just someone pulling my leg? Has someone stolen your identity and challenged me in your stead? If it IS you, then I welcome the competition! What we've needed in these languishing times is a little spirited ribbing. So I ask you, Holly, or mock-Holly, or whoever it is impersonating you, what say you to a little debate?

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

A Convenient Truth

Now that Al Gore has won an Oscar for An Inconvenient Truth, it's time to assess how Hollywood impacts the Presidential process. Clearly, Oscar is the new Peace Prize. And while we at It Could Be Wirsing have the luxury of time before the election, it's not smart to hold back too long on this crucial campaign step. After all, it took Martin Scorsese more than 25 years to win his--and as much as I love Karl, he's no Scorsese.

The Gore model is a good one. A documentary is the ideal format. Serious subject matter says "I care," and the long-form type lends gravitas. This does not mean, however, that the potential candidate should necessarily choose Issue Du Jour. After all, Mr. Gore spent years being ignored in Congress, when he'd go on and on about environmental stuff while everyone else headed out for drinks, long before Leonardo DiCaprio ever considered driving a hybrid. And now we care because Al cares (and because "Kyoto" is a fun word to say).

Accordingly, I propose a theme that is already near to Karl's heart, one which will probably become relevant somehow in the next twenty-five years: prairie dogs. Sure, the hum of this issue is still pretty low; no one has sent Anderson Cooper out to the midwest yet to do an in-depth story with his characteristic "empathetic face" on.

But if we begin to get the word out now, the Academy will be ready for a revelatory film by 2030. And it will be a great night. Dakota Fanning and Karl doing scripted banter about his coy non-answers about exploratory committees. Ryan Seacrest (after his fourth facelift) asking inappropriate questions on the red carpet. And--ultimately--a swell of Hollywood goodwill and contribution dollars before the hangovers set in the next morning.

The gaudy, glitter-strewn stage has been set. I think we're up to this challenge.

Friday, December 22, 2006

Happy Holidays

From South Dakota, where a spectacular snowfall yesterday has left the prairie perfect for a frosty holiday season. Damn if it's not cold, but damn if it's not also incredibly wild and stunning and worth the miserable trip it takes to get all the way out here. Yesterday I saw two bald eagles, at least 100 wild turkeys, and dozens of deer - all on a short walk.

Nine people out of ten may call South Dakota a fly-over state. But I promise you it's not a place to overlook, and I don't plan to on the campaign, either.

Holiday well, team.

Saturday, December 02, 2006

We won

Bring on the White House ...

And in case you're wondering what victory looks like, it goes a little something like this:

Friday, December 01, 2006

Big Game Tonight

This evening, at 6:30 p.m. on a field somewhere in Somerville, "Team Hot" will play in the semi-final game of a co-ed rec soccer league: 7 v. 7, pure heat, pure action, pure magic. But the question on my mind is not whether we'll win. I'm more concerned whether we should read tonight's result as a judgment on the worthiness of this whole campaign - several team members work double-duty on It Could be Wirsing, after all. The political gods have been gracious this fall. Yet how much goodwill is there left for us?

I lost some sleep last night. Not because I was worrying about the game, but because my pillows really suck. They couldn't cushion a toilet seat. During that free time, however, between nursing my sore-ass neck and reading Cosmo, I thought about some things. I wish I could remember what they were.

Vote Wirsing: Where big teeth win

Friday, November 17, 2006

The magic starts tomorrow

We're taking the campaign bus down to South Carolina this weekend for a Gamecocks football game at my beloved Williams-Brice Stadium. At no other place, I'd wager, will you find so many unbelievably - nay, even rabidly - loyal fans ... for whom I'd give almost anything to have on our side. Hell, South Carolina can't put a winning tradition together for all the hall-of-fame coaches on the market (and this hurts me; it hurts terribly), and that doesn't seem to dampen anyone's spirits for more than a gloomy offseason. Now if It Could Be Wirsing even gets a little positive momentum, we ought to seem awfully appealing by comparison!

So what will it take to get tens of thousands of supporters to file out and scream for us once a week for the next 26 years? Mike, this is your job, figure it out.

In the meantime, Go Cocks!

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Do not fear the silence ...

... it is but the deep, chest-gorging inhale of a gathering storm.

But seriously, we have a campaign fundraiser scheduled in Boston for the evening of Saturday, November 4th, beginning at 9:00 p.m. at The Columbia House. We have the privilege of featuring, as our keynote speaker, Mr. Michael Moats, our esteemed campaign manager and accomplished political thinker of this, our own, generation. His birthday is the very same night; we shall celebrate him as well as our organization, top to bottom the finest in the 2032 race. Our future is in his hands. The least we can do, and do enthusiastically, is put ours together and hear what he has to say.

Dress is casual. For tickets and directions, please contact our headquarters at Seats are available on a limited basis.

Cocktail hour(s) will run from 9:00-11:00. At 11:15, there will be a brief introductory announcement, followed at 11:30 sharp by Mr. Moats' address.

See you there,

It could be me

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Two roads diverged in the hood

First of all, a warm, wide-shanking welcome to Aaron, my oldest brother, for chiming in - we've been waiting too long, but it feels oh so good to have him along for the ride.

Second order of business: we are finalizing a t-shirt design. I have my own in mind (which, to be honest, will be difficult, if not downright impossible, to overturn), but I'm welcoming any suggestions, especially the preposterous ones that are likely the only responses I'll get. My idea so far is to have a gray shirt with "it could be wirsing" in baby blue across the front, with 2032 right below it, printed over a wavy flag. That always looks so nice. On the back, in red lettering across the top, "we aren't the tide of the future. we're the moon." Then, below that, an image of the moon. Tony found a good one a while back.

We can also do several styles to accommodate different tastes. Any other ideas?

Friday, September 22, 2006

Brother in arms

Greetings all -

As Karl's brother, I'd like to pledge my enthusiastic support for his nascent campaign. What do I bring to the table? Well, among other things, the ability to consistently miss a soccer goal from close range, deadly accuracy with malted milk balls, and an unusual fondness for mermaids...


Thursday, September 21, 2006

Congratulations ...

... to Mike Moats for his work on the Deval Patrick campaign so far. This past Tuesday, Patrick won convincingly in the Democratic Primary for the Massachusett's governorship. Mike's role in this accomplishment may not easily be quantified - who's counting, anyway? - but he's now a proven winner. It Could Be Wirsing has needed some street cred for a while now. Well, folks, Mike's cooked up a fine-looking turkey of legitimacy. Mmmm, it smells awfully good.

We salute you, Mike. Our future is in your able hands.

Thursday, September 07, 2006


Democrats Debate Tonight
7:00 PM on NECN. Check your local listings.


Wednesday, September 06, 2006

The Moon Beckons

I was sitting here at work, twiddling my restless opposables and remembering past years as a champion thumb-war wrestler, when fresh visions of sugar plums danced before me: we are now officially in this for the long haul, Team Wirsing. Which is fortunate, because as we approach the third marvelous month of our campaign, aborting it won't be legal much longer. So look at us and beam as a proud parent might - we are a fully-formed baby, legs and arms twitching to the sound of electoral success, eyes peaking at a horizon of political prowess, infant stomach growling with hunger for something more substantive than the pre-digested hand-me-downs of a mother country long since incapable of serving its citizens a decent meal.

No longer do we have to wait for a new tide of fortune. Our fate, after all, does no biding. It likes not the lolling sit-back of finger-crossers and idle dreamers. It cares even less for the raunchy vomit of empty promises of a better world to come. No, our fate accepts only the delicate fingers of thinkers who would mold this play-doh nation into a model to behold. And those hands, those soft, feeling, caressing hands, belong to us. Yes, look at them. I see you doing it. Look at those long fingers aching for the touch of change, the pinch of new hopes and prosperity. They are yours, and they are indeed fantastic. What can't you do with 10 fingers?

Now clench those lovely fists. Feel their power, their tightness, their crushing confidence. Then remember: we are the moon (you may recall all the effort I put into making the damn thing) of the future. We do the pulling, the planning, the planting, the plotting. We don't recline, my friends, until we're watching our careers played back to us on t.v. as number 1 on the future celebrated PBS series, "Greatest Administrations of All Time." By then, of course, we'll deserve a little rest.

Pipe-dreams are for smokers. Inhale a little of us instead and feel the real burning stench of possibility in your lungs.

It could be us

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Our Man in Washington

Dear Team Wirsing,

After reading this blog, my friend Joe said "Awesome...great website." And Joe works in Washington DC, so I believe we have a brand new ally for storming the White House in 2032. As you can see, Joe has already infiltrated North Korea. And he doesn't even look Korean! Now that's what I call an inside man.

Blow your mighty conch, Karl. Our team is growing.

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Register To Vote

TODAY is the LAST DAY to register to vote [for Deval Patrick] in the Mass Democratic Primary on SEPTEMBER 19TH. Offices are open until 8 pm for any working folks.

I would tell you all about how to get this done, but they already did it better at Blue Mass Group. Follow the link for answers to all your voter registration questions.

You know, you know, you know. Go, go, go.

Championship Cheeks

Plans for the first annual "It Could be Wirsing" Mr. Tight Buns contest are now underway, with tentative dates scheduled for the middle of September. We are still searching for ideal locations, but the response to our call for asses has already been overwhelming. So far, contestants include Al Roker, Mike Moats, Shaq, Albert Pujols, Ernest (of "Scared Stupid" and "Goes to Camp" fame), Tony Schaffer, Conan (the Barbarian, not the Destroyer), and, very tentatively pending progress in the courts, John Karr. His interest/fetish with tight buns is questionable, and I'm worried he misinterpreted our contest. In any event, quite a line-up. Tickets will be $10 for adults, $5 for kids. All proceeds will benefit the campaign.

Interested participants should contact us at, or by posting to this site.

Squeeze away, gentlemen. It's time to flex those buns to perfection.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Can Karl Come and Play?

For over a month, we have shared the ideas of the "It Could Be Wirsing" campaign and told the tales of the leader called Karl. Word has spread; the buzz is defeaning. And it is my belief that we can no longer deprive the wirld of the immediate, palpable presence of Karl. He not only needs to be heard, he needs to be seen and smelt and felt up by soccer moms and pageant queens and scoutmasters.

As Director of Physical Fitness, I know that Karl is ready to greet the uniwirse. Have you seen his arms? He's been working on them all the time. They look like a python that just swallowed a bear. You could do your laundry on this man's stomach. The muscles from his thighs could feed an African country for a month if they could ever chew through the meat, which I doubt. His pectorals can do the macarena. Trust me, he's not only ready to meet the wirld. He's ready to hoist the wirld over his head and steal its girlfriend.

I mean, for Karl's sake, you can bounce a quarter ten stories off Karl's ass, which is why I believe the perfect setting for his inaugural appearance should be as a judge in a Mr. Tight Buns competition. He would be placed in a seat of authority and able to reveal his key decision making and judgment skills, his ability to relate to everyday joes and janes, and his appreciation for people who work hard, who do not take short cuts (like performance enhancing drugs), in their drives to fulfill the American Dream. Colleagues, look at this photograph. This is the American Dream. And Karl, as a Mr. Tight Buns judge, will be able to help one lucky person achieve it.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Staff Update and Call for Officers

As per Brian's request, I've tried to identify everyone's title. Oddly, Brian himself, as far as I know, has lacked an official role. So I've given him a lovely one below.

Me, Candidate
Mike Moats, Campaign Manager
Tony Schaffer, Director of Physical Fitness
Ashley Peterson, Director of Lessons Learned
Brian Hurley, Senior Marketing Director and Campaign Strategist
Kate Lopaze, Vice-Presidential Committee Chairman
Shannon Derby, Director of Doing It
Meredith Devney, Director of Outdoor Life
Aaron Wirsing, Director of Conservation and Environmental Affairs
Jonno Forman, Legal Consultant
Caroline Kraft, Senior Campaign Publicist
Matt Kaberline, Activities Coordinator
Katie Hunt ...
Vanessa Carlisle, Director of Media Training
Camron Terwilliger ...
Hal Stallworth, Foreign Policy Advisor
Eve Kager, Economic Advisor
Alex Charlow, Online Strategist
John Heider, Director of post-Soviet Outreach
Robert Repino ...
Allison Trzop ...
David Sloan...
Robert Doty ...

Please help fill in these holes and others. I've granted too many late-night cabinet offices and am having difficulty recalling them all. I once dubbed someone Secretary of the Morbidly Obese, and there must be more out there.

Monday, August 21, 2006

Branding Ideas

"Qarl and Shak" just didn't sound right.

*Of president of the United States, of course.

This one only works as long as we're not facing a challenger with a name like Worstershire. We can't afford to be be beaten at our own game.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

The Shannon Doctrine

After doing a lot of thinking last night and this morning, among other things, I have decided to graciously accept the title of Director of Doing It offered to me at last night's barbecue. Doing what, you might ask. Doing it, I'll reply with a sly laugh, adding that it can be whatever you want it to be or whatever it is that needs to get done. Whatever it is, I'll be directing it to the best of my capability.

This leads us, of course, to The Shannon Doctrine. I find that the words I'm about to share with you are very, very important words to live by and, I think, really embody the take-action attitude of the Wirsing campaign. The Shannon Doctrine is simple: sex first, personality/thinking/whatever later. When entering a relationship, many worry about whether or not the other person is into them, many start second-guessing themselves before the relationship has ever begun, many just think way too damn much. If you follow the Shannon Doctrine, then you will know right away whether it is going to work or not because, let's be honest here, if the sex is bad or lacking, chances are the relationship will be too. It's really a win/win situation here - if the sex was bad and the relationship ends, well, hey, at least you got laid. If the sex is good, you have at least one more month before the person gets on your nerves. Or, if you're lucky, it could be the beginning of something really beautiful. At any rate, and I repeat myself here, hey, at least you got laid.

What does this have to do with politics? Oh come on people, sex has everything to do with politics! We need to help Karl to politically, emotionally and intellectually seduce the American people so that when election day comes around, they go to the polls and "go all the way" by voting for him. I mean come on, who really stops at third base these days?

So, members of the Wirsing campaign, I implore you to go out tonight and drink and be merry at Andy's going away/birthday party and, of course, follow The Shannon Doctrine. Just remember to use protection.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

The Coming Election Cycles

Okay nothing clever here, simply a reminder to all the members and readers here at our Grand Experiement that the election season nears, and for everyone to do their best to vote, either here in Massachusetts, or absentee in their home state.

For information on voter registration here in the Commonwealth, go here. If anyone needs a voter registration form, or an absentee ballot form for the state of Massachusetts, I can pick them up at the campaign office. To register for the September 19th Democratic Primary - which I urge you to do - you must have all papers in no fewer than 20 days ahead of election day, SEPTEMBER 19TH. That date again is SEPTEMBER 19TH. 33 days from today, SEPTEMBER the 19TH.

SEPTEMBER 19TH, 2006. Democratic Primary.

If anyone has questions about the Democratic candidates you can check out the Globe's Campaign Page. Don't hesitate to familiarize yourself with the Lieutenant Governor race as well.

For nationwide races, the New York Times has a helpful guide.

General elections will be held on November 7th.

Vote. It's the only way.

Mike Moats
Campaign Manager

Reality Check

I shook with excitement all day yesterday after Kate's revelation that Shaq should be our Vice President. She was really on to something. But then late last evening on my porch, I realized that the real test of Shaq's worthiness is how well he can play croquet, which I anticipate will be the official sport of diplomatic negotiations in the future. So tactical, dignified and composed, and yet still plenty aggressive and competitive, croquet is the perfect game of government, all while you can enjoy a cold beer, a sunset and some good tunes. Indeed, comfort with a mallet, deadly accuracy around little white hoops, perfect aim with the long ball: these will be the hallmarks of great leadership in the coming years.

And I have to admit, I'm pretty darn good at croquet. It's one of the Wirsing family's proudest and most hotly-contested traditions. We face-off dozens of times at weekend get-togethers, and only my dad's crippling tendency to ignore the "poison" shows a chink in our collective armor. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained," he says stubbornly as he knocks his ball within an easy few inches of the poison ball, setting up everyone else's downfall as well. At least he has guts. My oldest brother Aaron (admiring my form in the photo above) also holds nothing back on the course. His use of the flatulent "12th defender" has been unfavorably compared to a weapon of mass destruction. Even the ozone layer fears him.

So Shaq, with all your majesty on the basketball court, will you transition fluidly to a grassy plain for a world-changing game of croquet?

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Holding Out for a Hero

It appears that in the heady glamour of the early stages of this presidential race, we’ve forgotten one key element: the running mate. Some might say that such a decision could wait, oh, twenty years or so to see which vaguely good looking senator could carry a random swing state—but the time to plan is clearly now. After all, Washington had his Adams…Bush has his Cheney…Polk had his That Guy. Your administration is only as strong as the shadowy dude who’d stand over your dead body and take control of the country.

The Wirsing campaign can do better than that. We need more than a mere VP candidate, and I believe we can deliver not just a fantastic Rhoda to Karl’s Mary Tyler Moore, but also a manly, platonic love story for the ages. Political scientists will marvel at the perfect interplay of brains and brawn, fame and humility, when we announce our choice: “Shaquiiiiiiiiiille O’Neeeeeeeeeeeeal!”

Shaq will bring many of the things that some might argue we don’t quite have yet: that engaging O'Neal smile, the votes of everyone who’s not Kobe Bryant, and scads of cash. If the punditocracy is to be believed, the tallest guy in the debate usually wins. And unless the Republicans run Yao Ming as their VP-to-be, nobody’s gonna out-tall Shaquille O’Neal in that auditorium.

In Shaq, we’ll have the popularity of Michael Jordan, but with fewer gambling debts; and the ambition of Charles Barkley, minus most of the, uh, personality issues. Karl and Shaq. Shaq and Karl. Shaq is America, people.


Our campaign is now an official "group" at It's open membership, so add/humiliate/delete/ignore as you choose.



Vote Wirsing - It just might be krazy enough to work!

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Happy hunting

Thanks to Brian's shrewd zoo outreach program, we've pretty well locked in the prairie dog vote. This is good news, of course, because these tunnel-digging wonders number in the millions nationwide. And wild and domesticated animals, so long as they spend at least 51% of the year on American soil (or air space, for migratory birds), will be allowed to vote by 2032. In the coming few years, you can expect numerous congressional arguments to focus on whether non-human species, since they share this same earth, shouldn't have an equal say in its management. Wild animals will be an easier sell as they live independently and generally try to eat as few people as possible. Domesticated species, however, will add a compelling dynamic to the electorate.

Take cows, for instance. Many agronomists predict that cattle, though they seem prone to a herd mentality, will actually prove a rebellious lot if politically empowered. Your average cow, be it range-fed or stock-raised, will no doubt favor further opening the foreign beef market, very much angering their rancher owners who insist that American beef should be all that Americans grill. Every Argentine cow shipped into this country, after all, is an American cow possibly not eaten. Inflexible, single-issue politics will dominate, for you'd better believe that cows will not agree, flat-hoofed, to having themselves slaughtered and sliced into steaks and hamburgers. What we could be facing is rank mutiny on vast ranches across the world. Better that we should strategize now to prevent this sort of anarchy. So livestock, I'm speaking to you now: join Team Wirsing, and we promise to be less dependent on you for protein and deliciousness.

This meaty sacrifice, of course, could anger another developing constituent - plants. Our campaign experts estimate that our leafy, oxygen-generating neighbors ought to join the electorate by 2040, a mere eight years behind. Their claim, long made but seldom heeded, will be that they produce what we breathe. When we nearly run out of air in 2034, gleeful giggles and taunts from garden produce will compel us to re-think our values. Damn those loud-mouthed, mocking tomatoes. Damn them!

Imagine these uncountable billions of as yet unswayed voters. Now imagine them all in our camp. Beat Wirsing? Beware our thunderous stampede of support, is more like it. You might caution us that we shouldn't count our chickens before they hatch. To that I say, "But hah, in the Wirld of tomorrow, those chickens will be counted, as will their votes!" At this point you should be speechless.

This weekend, Team Wirsing is taking a campaign trip deep into the mountain wilderness of Vermont to woo the flora and fauna of this fine New England state. All we have is a (borrowed) tent and a (stolen) cooler, but we expect to come back with an entire forest of support ... for the first time, literally.

Here's to hoping that Katie's toast doesn't prove too prophetic just yet.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Notes from Underground

These prairie dogs at the San Francisco Zoo wanted to know if Team Wirsing is doing anything for the voters who live below ground.

I promised I would confer with Team Wirsing and get back to them.

A Report on Karl's Ankle

As the Director of Physical Fitness, I feel it is my duty to update Team Wirsing on the condition of our future President's ankle. As most of you probably know, Karl injured his ankle last Sunday while playing soccer, saving orphans from a burning building, competing in five games of chess, reading War and Peace in the original Russian, negotiating pay raises for public school educators, and posing for the cover of a Harlequin romance novel. As you can imagine, the stress on Mr. Wirsing's ankle was significant and the injury was painful.

At the moment, he cannot move backwards or laterrally without severe discomfort but can walk and run forward with little difficulty.

So, in conclusion, the ankle injury has had little affect on Karl's campaigning and everyday life since, as we know, he never moves backwards or side to side but only forward into the improved Wirld of tomorrow.

Monday, August 07, 2006

Karl as muse

Ok, my candidate has spoken, so I'm opening my clam (plus I had to wait until I could recall my username, so I could then deduce my password, so I could then log in once again. I might be too intellectually feeble for team Wirsing, considering that it took me a month to accomplish these three simple tasks). I offer this as an anthem for the Wirsing campaign, in which Karl vanquishes man's great scourge, the grizzly bear. Well, the vanquishing part isn't actually in the poem. But it happens afterwards. I can revise if it'll get me Poet Laureate.

A Toast

Karl says grizzly would be the way to go:
“A return to nature. And who knows, maybe
I could beat it.” I picture him at eighty,
wizened in his fringed leather coat,
somewhere in Montana. Patting a cow
or chopping wood. Then the bear hulks in,
approaching with stealth – “Oh Karl,”
I say, “that’s a mistake.” Who wants to die
enveloped in bear breath, gnawed open,
natural or not? Lamplight ghosts glint
from Karl’s glasses. He refills my cup,
then his, with wine. We clink rims.
To health
to drink
to friends.

Wish List

Dear Team Wirsing and beyond,

Hoping to see exactly what we care about the most, I'd like us to make a Presidential Wish List - a letter to Santa, if you will, about what we'd like to see change in our national policies. And let's assume, first, that World Peace and an End to Hunger are taken.

Here, I'll go first. I already explained part of this to Awesome Peterson and Mike the other night.

I want all kids, beginning in kindergarten, to start learning a second language, and then to keep learning that language throughout their education so that they are truly bilingual when they graduate into this world. An introduction to Global Cultures, too, is an important component of this language education. Future generations of Americans ought to have a deeper appreciation of countries and cultures and peoples far outside of our own boundaries.

What do you want to see in the White House (besides me)?

Friday, August 04, 2006

Swing Swang Swung

I was reading this cool blog, E-PUBLIUS UNUM, that said "the failing strategy of the last two decades" of progressive politics has been "the attempt to swing voters without understanding that swing voters aren't asking to be appeased, they are asking to be swung." I thought that was smart.

So how does Team Wirsing swing voters? Well, normally we would choose a wedge issue that differentiates us from the opponents. But since A) we're still using our Ouija boards to figure out the wedge issues of Election 2032, and B) we don't know if we'll be up against Holly Togel or some other, unknown foe, it's difficult to choose a wedge issue that will definitely swing the voters toward Karl Wirsing.

Fortunately, this campaign has already come up with an issue that no self-respecting American can side against. Karl Wirsing isn't for America. Karl Wirsing is America. That is a powerful statement. And, as our foreign policy illustrates, nobody is going to stand up to America.

So I propose we turn Karl into America. That's right. We split him up into districts. When people ask if Karl approves of the way President Bush is handling the crisis in Lebanon, we say, "Hold on. Karl Wirsing is America. You can't separate the man from the nation. Forty-three percent of Karl approves, and forty-six percent of Karl disapproves. Only a traitor or a lunatic would disagree with the American people." And then Karl's opponents will seem like extremists.

Another idea is to leave a piece of Karl in every polling district in the country. A small town in Iowa has a fingernail clipping. A backwater swamp in Alabama has a lock of Karl's hair. This is how they used to treat Christian saints. It's like a wedge issue, because no self-respecting American will vote against a saint whose surgically removed corns are sitting in a box at the local City Hall. We can charge a young person in every district to be the guardian of Karl's relics, and when Election 2032 comes around we'll unite the American people by putting Karl back together again. Oh, did I mention that Karl has to die in order for this to work? Well, it's something to consider.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

The Myth of Karl (the origin of the moon)

With the recent talk of media training and Karl's weather changing platform, I was reminded of an anecdote I had once heard about Karl.

It happened a long time ago, in the early ages before men had the gods' confidences. Karl had just finished a jaunt with one of Poseidon's daughters--not the young red-head every one knows about but one of the dark haired middle sisters with a subpar self esteem who needed a little affection since Daddy never really showed that he cared--and he came to the surface and rode a giant wave inland. On his way he saw the lands scorched and burning. You see, while Karl was away the sun had no idea what it was actually supposed to do and so it stayed in the sky day and night, first drying out the grasses and then casting them in flame.

A collective wail came from all the people, stinging Karl's ears and almost causing him to weep (if that were possible outside of a viewing of Cool Runnings). At once, he promised to cure the land and sent the sun to rest in the Pacific. Then he blotted out the sky and brought the rain and quenched the fires and a great rejoicing came from the land, but Karl was not satisfied. He had to make sure that this never happened again, that the sun was never allowed to remain more than a day in the sky.

Do you know what he did? He dove back into the ocean and told his ex to gather every white rock she could find, promising that he would lay with her for a night if she gathered enough. She swam as fast as she could and got every bleached rock and piece of coral and brought it to Karl. He formed them into a great ball with his spit and sweat and tears and (cough) man juice and the collective brain power of the wise men and women he knew and the soul of freedom and America and a few left over cans of Natural Light. Then he set into the sky so that each night it would chase away the sun and cool the earth and control the tides and manifest positive change, especially in public schools, and serve as a beacon to all those beneath it, telling them that Karl will continue to look out for their best interests.

When his work was done, he was pleased and he laughed and screamed, "Hootie Rocks," which still baffles some theologians, and jumped into the ocean to keep his promise to that insecure mermaid.

I know what you are thinking: This is ridiculous. How can you possibly have sex with a mermaid? To that I say, don't bother with the details. I'm sure Karl found a way.

Speaking of media training

My fellow Americans, it occurred to me that I may or may not have trash-talked to a couple of 10-year-olds, both of whom neither know me nor that I'm running against them. That's pretty low-brow, no? So, borrowing from Countessa Vanessa's media-savvy advice (don't we all make such a dandy team?), I apologize for even the slightest hint of a negative campaign. I'm a quick learner. And Mike is, as always, correct, except he oughta tighten my leash. We are indeed a campaign of ideas. Progressive ideas. Fair ideas. Tolerant ideas. Climate-changing ideas. A vote for me is a vote for cloud-bursting change; for cool breezes when all we feel is suffocating heat; for UV rays that bronze the skin without damaging it; for fake-and-bake that doesn't leave people looking like leatherback turtles; for snow you can ball up in your bare hands without the faintest shiver; for deserts with 50 inches of annual rainfall; for pole-dancing without back injury; for Corona and a lovely lime wedge when all you have on tap is bathwater-warm Natty Light, because that's plain disgusting.

At the same time, the sooner that Holly and Noah learn that ours is a Karl-eat-not Karl wirld, the better.

Remember: We aren't the tide of the future. We're the moon.

It could be me

Talking Points: Weather

Just wanted to jump in and welcome all the new team members. Good to have everyone along.

This week is a good lesson for everyone in understanding how other news issues, such as a crippling heat wave, can distract from current and/or future political campaigns. We should not, however, be discouraged by this, and in the marketing-speak spirit of viewing "opportunity" at every downturn, I suggest the following:

"These climate developments are further evidence of the need for change from the top down. Karl Wirsing is eager to lead, to lead the country, and to lead the natural wirld.

"By the year 2032, if we haven't figured out how to harness at least some of God's power over the sky, we are due to suffer from more inconvenient and dangerous weather, driving up energy consumption and sweat rash. Karl Wirsing believes in weather of, for, and by the people, and is the only candidate in this race that has taken a stand on changing - for the better - Earth's climate."

You are the message. Make it so.

It Could Be Wirsing

Mike, Campaign Manager

Media Training

Karl, I made it into the fold. Yes!
I've been reading a PhD dissertation about what influences vote choice and I'd like to share my newfound expertise with you. Here is my advice.

1) get a pretty wife
2) tell some jokes when you are on TV and smile a lot
3) tell everyone that the biggest issue of today really is X (environment, budget, whatever) and that you are the only one with the qualifications to effectively deal with X in a manner that will benefit all Americans.

Be sure to use the phrase "Americans" instead of "America," it is more personal and people know you are talking about THEM, not just their government or their land.

More advanced techniques to come.

Monday, July 31, 2006

We're not alone

A quick google search this evening taught me an important motivational lesson: we are not alone in this early run to the 2032 presidency. Several others (including one, curiously, from my hometown of Columbia, SC) have already laced up their boots for this race. One of the candidates, the ambitious 10-year-old Holly Togel of Denver, CO, promises to "paint the White House blue," "get all the money in the world," and buy her "grandma an airplane" so she can visit her often in the "Big Blue House." I'd like to believe that our platform is more sophisticated and far-reaching than Holly's, though she does have a certain youthful charm. I mean, you have to high-five her for tackling hugely entrenched ideologies. Make the White House blue? That's mind-blowing, original, simple, unexpected, unprecedented. I'm not easily intimated or cowed by worthy adversaries. I do, however, have to admit feeling a pinch from my future face-off with Holly. Ooh, but get your gloves, Holly. I'm here for all 12 rounds.

Message: we're the late-comers. We can't surprise with novelty. Our only option is to amaze with sheer honest brilliance ... or to hope that our future opponents will not evolve beyond Miss Togel's brand of self-indulgent, greedy leadership. We'll see who gets to live in that Big Blue House, dammit!

(At least among these frontrunners for 2032, I'm a lot longer in the tooth)

'Special' Election

At Candidate Karl's request, I did some in-depth research into the possibility of a warm up run for POTUS ten years earlier. As it would be mid-term, we would have to amend the constitution for a special election. While the publicity (petition drives and what-not) might do the 2032 campaign some good, it might not be the message we want to send:
"Isn't that the guy that tried to run in 2022?"
"Why would someone try and do that?"
"I don't know, but when he was rubbing my belly, the baby responded."
As these are pretty difficult questions to answer in a ten second soundbite (?), I suggest the better part of valor would be to run as planned.

As an addendum, I know I haven't talked to the candidate in close to eight years, and I understand I am on the short bus of this campaign trail. Not being privy to strategic planning sessions, I risk redundancy in making three suggestions:
  1. Even though Noah's crass commercialism makes it obvious he isn't a serious candidate, it might be prudent to start a whisper campaign now that he is an inveterate bed-wetter.
  2. Make campaign donations payable through paypal. You could hold regular 'fundraisers' at the Tam with the proceeds.
  3. The bumper sticker:
Vote fitty, Vote Challenger
It could be Wirsing 2032

... would allow an ad. campaign with no reprinting costs in every pres. election until 2032. They might get a little dirty, but hey, Karl's a man of the people, I mean Karl is the people, I mean... Ah, hell.


Sunday, July 30, 2006

All Hail 50!

According to my new supercomputer, which has the power to calculate such things, Karl Wirsing will serve as the 50th President of the United States.

Of course, I'm assuming that each president from now until 2028 serves only one term. On the other hand, if all the subsequent presidents are re-elected for a second term, then Karl Wirsing will be the 47th president.

But I like the sound of 50. Christ Almighty, that is a beautiful number. Karl Wirsing. The 50th President of the United States!

Or the 49th. Or the 48th. Or the 47th...

That's why I'm voting for the challenger in every presidential election from now on. I want to see a big 50 right next to our boy's name.


Hey everybody, the e-coffee is here. I asked my intern to bring it.

Wait, what are you doing? No! I was supposed to give some of that e-coffee to Karl Wirsing, the future president of the United States!

Bad intern. Monica Lewinsky, you suck!

Friday, July 28, 2006

I'm on board.. but not all the way.

I'm just not sure what type of campaign you are running here Karl. You have insiders bad mouthing Hootie? I'm concerned about just how closely you are monitoring your staff. And I plan to tell hootie when I see him in three weeks. Seriously. Both the part abut seeing him and telling him.

Barring any further mutiny, you'll see my bumper adorned with "It Could Be Wirsing 2032"

Sinead it ain't so

Right now I'm listening to Sinead O'Connor's "Nothing Compares 2 U." Yes, I still like this song. I still like a lot of crap music. A few weeks ago, in fact, at an awesome Hootie show down on Boston's south shore, I saw my new favorite t-shit - "Yeah, I still like Hootie, bitch." Longetivity and loyalty are beautiful things.

So decades from now, well after I've served two masterful terms in the White House (or three or four, if we can change that damned rule), and long after my scandals have all been written about ad nauseum, I hope there remain a few of you out there who will bristle at poor mention of my name and say, "Yeah, I still like Wirsing, bitch."

Thursday, July 27, 2006

I'm telling you, the answer is gator

Your newest member, here to make you proud.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Regional Advertising

There has been a lot of attention given to how we are going to approach different generations during Karl's march to the White House, but after some heated debate last night I believe that we should also turn to how we are going to attract voters in different regions to the daylight glow that is Karl.

I do not believe that a blanket ad campaign would be an effective strategy. We need to specify for each location. I'm throwing this out to the whole group, asking for some suggestions.

Some early thoughts: A cow with a bell around its neck and a placard across its flank that says "A Vote for Karl is a Vote for Change but not too much change, nothing scary like that random hitchhiker who shows up for a night and puts his seed in your blonde, nubile daughter's belly. Nothing like that. Positive Change" will be led across Western Kansas, Nebraska, Iowa, and the Dakotas. We don't want to scare these people off with any crazy electrical voodoo advertising.

In the Deep South, I considered tatooing an ad on every first cousin's backside but I haven't been able to square the logistics on this one. And I'm not sure what the tatoo would say, maybe just "Karl" with a picture of our future leader winking and shooting them the gun.

Monday, July 24, 2006

The Now

Between Tony's fascination with the elderly and Brian's with the unborn, we still face a vast untapped territory of the now - Generation K, as Brian so aptly knighted us. For visual sake, let's imagine ourselves for a moment as prairie dogs. The following picture might sum up our current position: looking forward and behind, carefully surveying the threatening past and present. But where's the dog looking directly at us? Where's the the pup digging in and setting up shop in our lives today?

I'm not sure in what hole he's hiding, but I can sure tell you what he'd look like. He'd be robust, hungry for life, large and in charge. He'd spread himself out like a picnic blanket over the issues; he'd cover them all and eat 'em up, then wag his cute little tail with great satisfaction. In the prairie dog world, he'd be this bad-ass -

So I say to all of Generation K, can you stare into these intense, beady eyes and not feel inspired? Can you take measure in his girth and not feel prepared to accept the challenge of this lifelong campaign?

Get ready everybody. It could be Wirsing.

Sunday, July 23, 2006

Generation K

What about all those voters who aren't born yet? After we rub their mother's pregnant bellies, the future ballot-casters of Generation K (for Karl) will need to be mollycoddled, patronized, and confined to grotesque, liquid-filled chambers where their souls will be harnessed by a series of funky black tubes to perpetuate the Karl Wirsing political machine. But who are they?

We'll probably look down on the next generation of voters: those disrespectin' kids with their "moon landings" and their "rocket fuel" beverages and their "casual circles of premeditated sex." To the best of my knowledge, they will look like the kid from "Flight of the Navigator," except the aliens on their shoulders will be enormous, octopus-headed beasts with bloodshot eyes and a particular distaste for liberty.

Karl and Mike, I beseech you, as you plan out the most crucial election campaign of the century, do not forget to subjugate the young people. They will come into the Wirld with bright eyes and an enviable sort of innocence, convinced of their own potential to save humankind. But they won't know the difference between Karl Wirsing and the blackened stump of their hastily severed umbilical cords. Fortunately, we will have the element of surprise. It's never too early for 2032.

Friday, July 21, 2006

Your Brother's Keeper

I see that Aaron, Karl's brother has signed up, and we all welcome you Aaron. I just wanted to get an early feel for whether your going to be my Roger Clinton or my Billy Carter.

I will need to get a jump on damage control, start drafting releases and things. You know, the ususal: "Aaron Wirsing has nothing but respect for dog owners..." "Those were prescribed to Aaron by a licensed physician..." "Aaron was not aware that she was pregnant and had no intention whatsoever of etc etc..."

I would suggest Billy Carter. He got an ad for beer.

It Could Be Wirsing

Mike "Rhymes With Votes" Moats, Campaign Manager

Tangled Up In Old Folks

As usual, Karl is right. We need to swing away before it is too late.

This morning I was walking down the street, eating pita chips out of a bag of groceries I had just purchased, when up ahead I saw two elderly women pass one another on the sidewalk. I was a little ways away and could not see exactly how it happened, but as they passed their walkers became entangled and as they tried to pull away, moving with feeble steps and shuffles, they each began to lose their balance. With death-like grips on their walkers, they teetered and swayed backwards in a hesitant, slow-motion fall until they were on their backs beside one another. Their walkers lay on their chests.

It was one of the saddest things I have ever seen, and as I side-stepped them, laughing and spitting out pita chip crumbs, I thought of how unless we affect change now America might one day be like these two women. It might be hard to believe but we our already on that path. The signs of old age have started to appear. Our country is waking up a little sorer each morning, it fears change and people who are different, and keeps yelling for people to turn that racket down. It has gained weight around the middle and is constantly complaining about pain in its knees but refuses to see a doctor because it says that they're all a bunch of know-nothing quacks with fancy-schmancy degress and pockets full of antibiotics. At this rate, it won't be long until the ideas and dreams that were once the USA lay like a pile of tangled old folks, with walkers and dentures and canes strewn across the streets like extras in a Mel Gibson Movie.

It doesn't have to be this way, I thought. We can still pick this country up and make it run like a young man again. The way we are going to do it is with Karl. With this blog and his candidacy, Karl has given us a gift--a chance to provide our land with a rebirth, a renewal. We must face that it is up to us.

After going through this in my mind, I was inspired and thought about going back and helping the two old women up and showing them that there is still hope for this country and people who will take action and take charge, but I had already walked so far and I had yogurt in my bag that could have gone sour. You know how that is.

I'm not sure what happened to the two elderly women or their walkers, but later on I did hear coyotes.

Go us

Is this electoral ennui I feel setting in already? Have we, just days into this once illustrious campaign, lost our competitive will and ambition? All the talk, all the clatter, all the bustle, has it been nothing but a feeble gust of sweet-smelling wind? Am I doomed to go out like that coach from Varsity Blues?

Not this soldier.

We're still in the honeymoon of our run to the White House! We should still want to post two, three, even four times a day. So that's not the sun I see setting on us - no, that's a big, hot, flaming ball landing in your court. Swing away, team. Swing away.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Edible Complex

One of my spokesmen earlier today misquoted me a bit when he said I am pro all delicious sandwiches. Let us be perfectly clear here: with respect to the exotic foods market, I only approve of three-letter meats, like eel, yak and emu. I strongly frown on harvesting dolphin, shark, alligator and any other longer worded animal (with the possible exceptions of buffalo, unicorn and condor).

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

How about dolphins?

I used to ride them to school every morning, uphill both ways.

He talks to animals

I don't tell this to everyone, but I'm kind of a shark whisperer. In fact, if you name a critter, I've probably had a chat with it.