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.

We won

Bring on the White House ...

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

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

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!

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 wirsingforpresident2032@gmail.com. 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

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?

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...

Aaron

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.

DEBATE TONIGHT

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

Mike

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

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.

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 wirsingforpresdient2032@gmail.com, or by posting to this site.

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

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.

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.

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?

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.

Branching

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

Love,

Karl

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

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.

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.

http://prairiedogcoalition.org/articles/high-plains-stewards.shtml

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)?

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.

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.

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.

H

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.

Finally

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!

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."

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.

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.

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

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.

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).

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.

From Headquarters

This is a bit of an inside message, but there is no better way of reaching out to everyone on Team Wirsing. In an effort to ensure the broadest possible exposure of our candidate, I am looking for volunteers to set up some more web outlets. I want us to have access points at the following locations:

• facebook.com
• myspace.com
• livejournal.com

Other possibilities include places like meetup.com, and friendster, if that is still around. For some of these sites, we can register as a club or group. The primary function will be to attract interest and guide users to the blog.

Who's with me? Who's going to do it instead of me?

Other points:

• Use the term 'Wirld' as much as possible, not limiting it to campaign materials. Incorporate it into your daily correspondence and professional memos. Spell it out when speaking aloud. A helpful hint is to tell children that 'w-o-r-l-d' is incorrect and that ours is the proper spelling. It is bound to be someday anyway.
  
• Depending on intergalactic contact between now and 2032, we may need to switch to 'UniWirse'
• Can anyone develop a technology to track each vote as we pick them up one by one? For instance adding Tony's two votes from earlier today? If the system is sound enough, we may be able to avoid formal elections altogether.
• Thank you everyone for your posts. It is exciting to see so much enthusiasm.

It Could Be Wirsing

Mike, Campaign Manager

One good turn deserves another

Last night, all the way from sunny San Francisco, Brian wrote in and offered our campaign a truly genius (and I don't believe I'm abusing the import of this word) suggestion with his "belly-rubbing" plan. I had given up most hope of reaching the unborn, but Brian imagined a way to circumvent the sensory-deprivation of a baby's host body - pat the belly. That's right, just rub it down, and in 18 years voting-age teens will pay back our favor with unqualified support. I happen to prefer this approach ever so slightly to another friend's recommendation that we compel all team members to get pregnant at the same time and rear intensely loyal voter-children. A bit invasive and cultish, I feared, if not strategically sound. So Brian, to thank you and encourage further explosions of show-stopping creativity, we invite you join us as a full-time contributor.

After all, a vote in the oven is worth two in the bush.

A little number-crunching

Today, Monday, is the first day of another week, one of some 1,352 we'll be facing over the next 26 years of this campaign. For those who find strength in numbers, 1,352 is a pretty big one, so the sheer enormity of this project ought to be an encouraging sight.

Let's calculate: right now (including the warmly welcomed addition of Katie the Pirate, our fist-pumping valve of energy) I count official Team Wirsing contributors at six, with another seven or eight waxing down their surfboards, and yet another 20 or so pledging their hearts rather than their words. I'm going to round this number to 36, very conservatively. Given that we have 227, 136 hours to win back this country for the people, our support base, even at this nascent juncture, can still generate a whopping 8,176,896 labor hours on the campaign trail. In just two hours the other day I nabbed at least 15 voters. If each of us collects 180 votes a day (I'm not including sleepy time, naturally), that's roughly 61,326,720 voters by the time of the election. Wow. Try losing with that kind of backing!

Is this fuzzy math? You bet it is. But these are big numbers, so crawl inside them, curl up and feel comfortable. We have plenty of time.

New face in the Wirld

It is my great pleasure to introduce our new Senior Campaign Publicist, Caroline Kraft, a gifted communicator and champagne connoisseur. An injection of bubbly, frankly, is what any fledgling movement needs.

Why must I be absurdly overqualified for everything I do?

This post will serve a dual purpose. The first and more essential being the announcement of my official title in the Wirsing '32 campaign: Director of Lessons Learned. It is an honor and a privilege to hold such an illustrious position in such a noble endeavor.

The second purpose, while not as essential, is arguably more essential. To prove that Wirsing '32 is not, in fact, the beer-fueled concoction of a group of wage-earning and/or unemployed grad students and is, in fact, a legitimate presidential campaign, I feel compelled to outline my sterling and unassailable qualifications for the job.

First of all, I am not nor have I ever been chair of the Texas State Lottery Commission. Second, poised as I am at the threshold of the shining fortress that is the field of Information Science, Lessons Learned are, basically, my shit. The general aim of information access, at least as far as why I feel compelled to amass silly amounts of student loan debt in order to break into the profession, is to make sense of the ridiculous barrage of facts and opinions and images generated every day. Every second. And it's further the truth that making sense of this information-- finding patterns, if you will-- will hopefully allow individuals to make better choices and to-- yes-- learn lessons. From their fuck-ups and the fuck-ups of others.

Also, my favorite episode of Arrested Development is the one where George Sr., who for years used a one-armed friend to teach his children various life lessons*, uses the same man to teach his children a lesson about why you should never teach your children lessons. All lessons were learned.

*Children forget to leave note indicating that the milk carton is nearly empty. George Sr. is enraged. Loads kids in the car for a mad dash to the supermarket. On the way, hits a pedestrian whose arm is severed by the impact, and who after the children are thoroughly horrified reveals himself to be the one-armed friend wearing a prosthesis. "That's why you ALWAYS LEAVE A NOTE."

The people (person, really) have spoken

Wow, Kelly, that is so exciting that you were able to divine our campaign's purpose so succintly in your comment! I'm honestly thrilled! "Get a grip" - beautiful, that's just what we're trying to do: get a grip on the future, grab this presidential bull by the horns and ride it through the next two and a half decades. I now feel confident that we're getting a clear and unequivocal voice across. Transparency, if nothing else, is our goal. Team Wirsing: 1. Ambiguity: 0.

In other news, Awesome Peterson, great to have you on board!

Asking not what Karl can do for me, but what I can do for Karl

Awesome Peterson, reporting for duty.

Trail Talk

Thanks Mike. Just got back from some rigorous campaigning on the courts of Brookline, and I think I picked up a few more votes - at least three "for sures" and one "if no one else runs." Two massive blisters and an aching back is an itsy price to pay for more constituents. Just think: If I collect that kind of backing every two hours for the next 26 years, I should be staggeringly popular by the time my name reaches a ballot. Or at least vastly improved at basketball.

The real victory for Team Wirsing, however, occured on my way home when I passed a youth baseball team filing into 7-11 for post-game slurpees. Their captain, a swarthy fast-baller heading into fifth grade, gave me his teammates' unqualified support. He reached out a lanky hand and high-fived me; I reckon he'll grow into my electoral base quite perfectly. So, in case you're counting, that's another 15 voters who will easily achieve legal voting age by 2032 (If I could lobby fetuses, coo sweet presidential nothings to them in utero, believe me I would. We all have a voice in this world, I say, no matter what anyone says about the imprudence of youth).

In case you'd like to join Team Wirsing, we welcome everyone's input and support! Please contribute your ideas and suggestions and questions about anything to do with our mission or this site. All official Team Members will receive a handsome "It could be Wirsing" button and t-shirt (both in early stages of production, pending donation volume; contributors may inquire about where to send money).

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

It Could Be Wirsing Updates

Hello supporters, just wanted to drop in with a campaign update. Last Tuesday we had a great fundraiser at the Tam in Boston, and managed to shore up another few dollars to fund our mission. With the continued dedication of our many supporters, we should be up, running, and street legal in the next few decades.

Today Karl has an important caucus on the basketball courts, and will be continuing his grassroots outreach on through the weekend and the summer. Look for Karl at an atheletic venue or recreational facility near you.

Thanks for all your help.

Never Forget: It Could Be Wirsing.

Mike, Campaign Manager

What's past is prologue

This is me looking back, making sure I didn't miss anything.

Change is a-brewing

This is me looking far into the future. Far, far into the future.

Mr. Speaker ...

2032 seems like an awfully long time from now to consider a campaign for the presidency of the United States, but just consider this announcement as foresight getting a long, loping headstart. I'll be 52 and no doubt still in love with Hootie and the Blowfish, who I imagine will be wrapping up a long-awaited reunion tour around then. They better be, at any rate, because I'm not sure who else would rock out my campaign music. So get ready folks. The time is 26 years from now, and believe me: It could be Wirsing.