Here at Hey Idiots!, we were greatly saddened by the passing of Walter "Killer" Kowalski. Saddened, first and foremost, because the world had lost the man who many credit with revolutionizing the "sport" of professional wrestling, but saddened also because we were reminded that, at one point in time, professional wrestling was, well, slightly less a farce than it is today.
We know that we'll never be able to trust the WWF (we'll be damned if we're ever going to refer to it as the WWE) to return professional wrestling to its glory days, but the Democratic National Convention filled us with hope - the hope that there is another alternative for those of us who still crave the thinly veiled epithets and pulsing veins that were the hallmarks of those halcyon days of wrestling yore. That hope lies in the face, the voice, and the candidacy of Barack Obama.
Senator Obama, in the speech you delivered at the DNC, you cut back ever-so-slightly on the platitudes and rhetoric and came out with a double-barreled blast of hypocrisy and tough-talk, two hallmarks of a possibly-not-catastrophic political campaign. We're not sure what our favorite implausible Obama Promise (to be referred to heretofore as an Obamise) was: that you will redirect funding and withdraw troops while strengthening the military (contradictory!), that, under your command, the United States will have eliminated its dependance on foreign oil within ten years (at maximum, your presidential term will be eight!), that you will implement a bevy of social programs while simultaneously lowering taxes (please elaborate!), or that you will be tough on terror while John McCain "wouldn't even follow Osama Bin Laden to the cave where he lives." (What. The. FUCK are you talking about, dude?!) Unfortunately, the man you're running against is a bloodthirsty, racist, warmongering lunatic. (Who, as you pointed out, is owed a debt of gratitude by each and every one of us due to his brave service at our country's defense.) You don't want to get into a badass contest with Johnny Mac, man. He will stomp a mudhole in you and walk it dry. He'll make you look like a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest.
So here's what you've gotta do: you've gotta take it up a notch. No, you've got to take it up two hundred notches. You've got to take us back to those pre-match promos the WWF superstars used to cut with Mean Gene Okerlund, and the subsequent beatings we would gleefully witness moments later. You can start by losing the suit and tie. That's sissy bitch garb. And you, sir, are no sissy bitch. At your next event, we'd better see you in blue tights with "oBAMa" in big red letters on the ass. If you want to maybe wear some weird-ass ribbons like the Ultimate Warrior did, that's cool too, but don't overdo it. We can't have you looking like Steven Tyler's mic stand out there.
Next, punctuate each implausible vow by saying, "and THAT'S an Obamise!" and smashing your fist into the podium. (It might be beneficial to hire somebody to replace each wooden podium with one made of styrofoam or cardboard. The last thing you need is to try and hammer home a promise to provide each American family with their own magical moneytree by breaking your dainty hand on that hard oak.)
Also, we're not sure you really want to enter into a policy debate with Senator McPain because he does have an actual, y'know, platform, however misguided (read: fucking insane) it may be. Instead, show up unannounced at his next event and challenge him to an arm-wrestling contest. You'll be able to assert your own strength while simultaneously calling attention to the fact that McCain is, in fact, crippled and weak. It can't miss!
Finally, you've got to get yourself one of those sexy "managers." J-Mac already made a savvy play in this department by snatching up the foxy Sarah Palin to be the Elizabeth to his Macho Man so, clearly, Joseph Biden isn't going to cut it. Our suggestion: Eleanor Mondale.
Look at that! Sure, she's only vaguely, peripherally involved in politics but she makes Sarah Palin look like Janet Reno! Plus, she's probably a damn tiger in the sack, but that's just speculation on our behalf. (President Clinton, feel free to chime in on this one.)
Now, if you can manage all of that, plus raise the volume and intensity of your speaking voice by one thousand percent, you'll have this election in the bag and we'll have been treated to some good, old-fashioned entertainment.
(A quick word of warning: should you choose this approach, prepare yourself for the day you're blindsided by a steel chair while Jim Ross shouts, "MY GOD!! THAT'S HILLARY CLINTON! NO! NO! NO!")
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