Now see, this is the kinda shit that drives me bananas. David Gregory was following Fred Thompson around on a campaign day in Iowa. When asked by Gregory who his most trusted advisor in a time of crisis would be, Thompson thought for a split second and said “my wife.”
Your wife? Really?
Another step in the pussification of America. We hear Thompson say that he would immediately run to his wife for advice in a time of national crisis and we wet our pants with “he’s such a good boy, I’m cozy now let’s have some apple pie!” What fucking nonsense. A candidate can’t come out and say “well, I’d have my National Security Council of course, and I’d have (insert list of CIA operatives et al).” You know, maybe some real experts in whatever the crisis is. But no. We can’t bear to hear that, we need a Hallmark card given to us. “oh, he’d ask his wife, that’s so sweet!!!”
So national crisis, ask the wife. Check! But if you’re about to go in for major surgery and you ask the doctor who he has to back him up if things go to shit on the table, how would you feel if he said “you know what, I’d prolly call my wife. She’s warm and sweet and smart.” Nyet. You ever seen shit going tits up in the courtroom for a defendant who then leans over to his attorney and says “maybe we should give your wife a call now?” This is what we’ve become. Fucking pathetic – maybe the next candidate that’s asked this will curl up with his blanket and say “my mommy!” That’ll make us feel all warm and cozy, right?
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