We’re finally here: Friday night births the first debate of the 2008 presidential election season . . . unless, of course, the bat signal flashes over Capitol Hill, summoning John McCain back to . . . well, no one is sure. Congress just hammered out this seven hundred BILLION dollar bailout, so there’s really no reason for him to skip the debate now. The Evil is betting McCain makes it to the podium after all—because no one wants a Harvard-educated lawyer 25 years his junior calling him a pussy. Which is what the Evil would do in Barack Obama’s place: show up, stand behind your own podium . . . look at the vacant podium . . . then to the American people . . . and roll your eyes as if to say, “How pathetic is that?”
Either way, we should be in for some good subpolitical theatre.
Now: whenever the debate is on, and on like Donkey Kong, we as citizens have two sacred obligations:
One, to watch our stalwart candidates verbally spar, that we may make a more informed voting decision.
Two, to lay the ground rules for the requisite Presidential Debate Drinking Game, that we may endure this rhetorical hootenanny.
Evil fuzzily remembers debates past, when “WMD”, “freedom” and “the terrorists win” got him suitably hammered. This year, he proposes the following rules.
Take a shot whenever either candidate says the word:
“Reform” or “reformer.”
“Regulation.”
“Business as usual.”
Take a shot whenever Obama says:
“Hope.”
“Change.”
“Postpartisan.”
“Four more years of the Bush presidency.”
Take a shot whenever McCain says:
“Sacrifice.”
“Honor.”
“POW.”
“Vietnam.”
Take two shots if either candidate attempts to rhyme “Ahmadinejad” with “bad” or “jihad.”
Take three shots if either candidate attempts to rhyme “Ahmadinejad” with “Trinidad.”
Down the entire bottle if Obama says:
“Hell yes, I voted to teach kindergarteners sex-ed, just like the McCain ad says—and I’d do it again in a minute!”
Do the same if McCain says:
“Hell yes, I see eye-to-eye with Rush Limbaugh on immigration, just like the Obama ad says—get ‘em outta here!”
Pass out in a pool of your own vomit if Hillary Clinton emerges from backstage with a folding chair and bashes Obama over the head.
Those should be enough to have you knee-walking to the voting booth. If you have any suggestions, Evil would love to hear them.
Enjoy the weekend. If possible, debate Israeli-Syrian relations with someone you love.
thenationalevil.wordpress.com 
Sounds like the Evil will be dropping dead of alcohol poisoning soon, then, because I GUARANTEE (damn that looks wrong in all-caps) all of those things and more will happen. In fact, I’d be willing to bet McCain replaces Palin with a rotting donkey carcass as his running mate sometime in the next week or two.
WHY are there 9 Dali movies coming out next year? Because the bastard obviously seized control over the mechanisms of the universe just before the 2000 elections, and every daythat passes, his ability to manipulate world events gets stronger, as can be witnessed vividly in this political season. Just when you think things can’t get stranger, TA-DAAA!!! They do!
I’d think it was just the dementia, but I repeat all these stories I hear to Raul and ask him to honestly tell me if I am misunderstanding any of this insanity, and he keeps assuring me it’s all true. Fucking amazing.
I was pleasantly surprised not to wind up in the hospital after following the rules of Evil’s game, though I was absolutely hammered. Just as well, though: I need to develop a serious drinking problem. Everything I’ve ever seen, read, or listened to about Great Depression invariably involved lots and lots of booze. Always pays to prepare for the worst.
Who woulda thunk it, though — Raul nailed it when he called John McCain a coward for his aversion to maggots. The last time I saw a grown man squirm that much was last year when I re-introduced myself to my birth father at a press-conference he’d called to announce he was running for governor. Here’s Obama standing tall and proud, the obvious alpha-male of the two, and over there’s McCain doing everything in his power to avoid making eye-contact with him. I’m surprised he didn’t tuck his tail between his legs and slink offstage at the end.
evil also succeeded in getting quite sauced, though he curses himself for not thinking of the most obvious trigger phrase: MAIN STREET. boy, those gentlemen loved that . . .