The Conventional Conventions
Part 1 - The Democrats

I realize I’ve been remiss in my duties lately—those of documenting my profound thoughts and opinions for your reading pleasure, and of running for president. The truth is I’ve been doing my homework on the opposition, first attending the Democratic National Convention in Denver while posing as a disgruntled Hillary Clinton delegate, and this past week watching the Republican National Convention on TV. I decided not to go to the RNC in Minneapolis-St. Paul for two reasons: I feared getting run over by a car driven by an addled octogenarian Republican delegate, and feared gazing upon native Minnesotans, a people who are so pasty-white they look like they’ve been dead for a week. The chicks in Colorado are much hotter.

Anyway, the Democratic National Convention got off to a predictably boring start at the Pepsi Center on August 25, with dull speeches by wooden politicians who made you wonder how they ever got elected in the first place. The convention got an adrenaline jolt Monday evening from Senator Edward Kennedy, who, despite having brain cancer, gave an emotionally stirring speech that left many in the crowd in tears. Michelle Obama, who reintroduced herself to the American public and provided a more intimate glimpse into her past and present life, delivered Monday’s final speech. Overall Michelle came off as extremely intelligent, well-spoken and poised, especially for an America-hating, fist-jabbing terrorist.

The DNC crowd was pretty diverse in age and ethnicity, although a strange tension hung in the air for the first two nights thanks to the many still-bitter Hillary Clinton supporters, who continued to seethe over Obama’s surprise victory over their candidate. Most of the Hillarians were gray-haired proto-feminists who somehow thought that Hillary deserved the nomination simply because of her many years in the White House (which they seem to forget were served as First Lady) and because she’s Hillary Clinton, for God’s sake!  If NBC ever does a reality show called “The Sorest Loser,” Hillary, her supporters and Bill Clinton can be the contestants.

Tuesday night a long parade of boring speakers took the stage, and then Hillary gave her much anticipated speech. There was electricity in the air—mainly because a cute woman I accidentally groped while reaching for my cell phone Tased me.

But there was the metaphorical kind of electricity as well. Would Hillary release her delegates to Obama? Would she at least seem to be sincere in declaring her support for him? Would she and her die-hard loyalists try to somehow commandeer the convention and wrest the nomination away from him? Would she blow up the building with an explosives-laden suicide pantsuit? The tension was palpable. I must say that Hillary hit the bull’s eye and gave a gracious and convincingly supportive speech, although infrared cameras caught residual Obama hatred radiating from her body.

Hillary looked very Hillary-like in a bright orange pantsuit and, in comparison to the speakers who preceded her, seemed like the greatest orator alive. The camera cut repeatedly to a beaming Bill Clinton, who appeared to say the words “I love you” three times during Hillary’s speech. It’s unclear whether he was looking in a mirror or at Hillary while speaking them. When Hillary was done, the crowd was newly energized and the Hillarians seemed to get some of the catharsis they craved.

Wednesday night starred Bill Clinton and later, Joe Biden. No matter what you think of Bill—whether you think he’s a lying scumbag, was a middling to pretty good president, or is the hottest chicken-fried dude since Elvis—the man knows how to give a speech. Bill arrived to a minutes-long ovation, and roused the crowd even more than Hillary. The convention finally seemed to come together. Then Joe Biden and his hair plugs accepted the vice presidential nomination and did pretty well in telling his tragic tale of personal loss and resilience.

Throughout the convention we heard approximately four thousand times that a John McCain administration would be a repeat of George W. Bush’s administration. Oh, and that McCain voted with Bush between 90 to 95 percent of the time. Did you get that?

Thursday night Obama accepted his presidential coronation—er, nomination, at Mile High Stadium in front of more than 80,000 people. The right-wingers have been making hay out of Obama’s “celebrity” for some time now, as if it’s somehow shameful to be a politician who is actually popular enough to pack a football stadium. John McCain might be able to pack one too, if he could find one that accommodates enough wheelchairs and bedpans.

Obama was his usual passionate and eloquent self, although if I have to hear the word “change” much longer, I’m gonna go medieval on somebody’s ass. Obama put on his steely-eyed and determined face and delivered a verbal whomping to the Republicans while inspiring his crowd to get out and vote for—you guessed it—change.

At the end of his speech fireworks burst overhead, and it was over. History was made, and Obama became the first black man ever to be nominated for the American presidency.

And I got Tased again by another attractive woman. Darned if I don’t have trouble reaching into my own pocket for my cell phone.

Part 2- The Republicans