Not since the days of King Kong has someone so thickly coifed
slithered down the spud state’s Bald Mountain. And he did it with
all the daring and uprightness he used to display ride-ride-riding
the wild surf in pre-Vietnam San Diego. Purportedly he was on a
snow board, though the Boston Globe reporter’s notes we
checked indicate “snow bored.” At least there was no danger that
John Kerry’s warmth might melt the snow and cause avalanches and
untold loss of life. But his campaign is suddenly concerned that he
is the first candidate of stature with his own chill factor. Hey,
hey, JFK, how many voters did you repel today?
There’s widespread talk of implosion. But how can that be?
Doesn’t the word connote an inward turning toward an inner core?
Perhaps “poofing” is the more appropriate term. Now you see him,
now you don’t. By convention time the burden will be on Democrats
to persuade voters that John Kerry ever existed. It’ll be easier to
prove Osama is still among us. After experiencing neo-JFK the
nation will be ready to give tank-suited Michael Dukakis a second
look.
The venerable Secret Service has joined the ranks of those who
don’t know who John Kerry is (though apparently he knows the mother
of one of his protectors). The only thing that keeps the agents
going is remembering who Bill and Hillary are. Before the Kerry
vacation is over they’ll have all requested transfer to Iraq, the
one foreign nation yet to endorse Kerry’s candidacy. (True, that
may depend on which government you recognize.)
According to early returns, Kerry has far outpaced the Democrats
of ‘96 in garnering overseas endorsements. While he’s grateful for
most of them (couldn’t that Malaysian gone through official PLO
channels?), he was positively overwhelmed by the show of support
from Spain’s new PM. His name is Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero, and
sooner or later he is going to be mistaken for Salvador Allende.
Europe has not seen his likes since the days of Danny the Red.
Here’s what we know about his so far. Zapatero is a Mama’s boy.
As the Washington Post memorably explained it in a box
headlined “Why We Call Him Zapatero,” unlike your standard macho
Spaniard who takes his father’s last name, Zapatero thought his
mother’s catchier. We’re not convinced. Maybe it would help if John
Kerry were suddenly to be renamed John Forbes. Then at least we’d
get a flat tax and a friendlier business climate.
We shudder at the thought of what Zapatero will do Iberia’s
clime. For starters he’s happier to vanquish G.W. Bush than those
who attacked Spain. In the press conference in which he endorsed
Kerry, he sniffed that he’d received so many congratulatory calls
that he didn’t know if Bush was among those callers. Does he
distinguish between Bush and the United States? The Washington
Post reported that at a Columbus Day parade last
year, Zapatero sat down when the Starts and Stripes passed by.
“It’s not my flag,” he reportedly said. True enough. His is solid
white, unless we’re confusing it with his bandanna.
Can the Kerry-Zapatero romance last? According to intelligence
static, Zapatero is determined to make Spain the gay marriage
capital of the world. Are San Francisco and Portland ready to be
outsourced? Can we as a nation afford a new trade war? Can
Francisco Franco afford to remain dead?
Let us not be diverted by foreign entanglements. There’s plenty
more to preoccupy us right in our own backyard. With spring comes
the revival of weeds. We thought this once dandy lion was pulled
four years ago. But he’s back, defacing our political garden. First
he lets on that he’d be happier than heck to serve as Kerry veep.
Then, when even Kim Jong Il has distanced himself from the rude
Democrat, he goes on national television to defend Kerry as the
ideal mix of Douglas MacArthur, George Patton, and Marshal
Zhukov.
Now he’s practically begging to be named Enemy of the Week. How
absolutely pathetic. Okay, we’ll do it, but this time only. Make it
official: John McCain is EOW. We’ll have the Weekly
Standard plant a cactus in his honor.
