If you thought that the incomprehensible DNC Failure-palooza this weekend was the best evidence that the Dems will continue to wallow in ignorance and defeat, you might be judging too hastily.
Allow me to present a January 30th poll from Echelon Insights listing Democrats’ preferences for their party’s nominee in 2028.
First the caveat: I have no idea who “Echelon Insights” is. Other than that they sound like the name of a nefarious corporation in a thriller starring Tom Cruise or Matt Damon racing against time to uncover a plot to corner the unobtainium market and then blackmail the president, or something.
Anyway, their poll lists the top 12 contenders for the Dems in 2028. The four wisest choices are: “Generic Democrat” at 21%; “Unsure” at 17%; “Other” at 7%, and “Trump/other Republican” (HA!) at 3%.
Which means that nearly half of Democrats (48%) effectively want either nobody they know, or Orange Hitler (who is constitutionally unable to run again) or one of his minions! HA! HAHA!
Before you laugh your way into an aneurysm at that hilarious news… wait. There’s more.
Because here are the choices, in descending order, of the slightly more than half of Democrats who know who they want:
Que Mala Harris at 32%! (She’s currently sitting in Obscurity, California, two wine boxes into her lunch, which she is drinking while lying on her tummy, because her butt is still so bruised from the kicking it received on 11/5!)
Gavin Newsom at 6% (the current front-runner for his 2028 campaign slogan is, “Poop maps, hellfire and used syringes – Newsom, ’28!)
Bernie Sanders (professional useless centenarian) at 5%
Followed by the worst 3-way tie since the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, minus 1:
Mayor Pete (“He made the trains run on time! If by “run” you mean “de-rail and explode”),
Hillary Clinton (her Clydesdale cankles are still trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored), and
AOC (“Empty head, juicy booty” [her words, not mine]), all at 2%
Followed by the late Joe Biden (I’m not kidding) and Michelle Obama (insert Chewbacca howling sound here), tied at 1%.
Good lord!
I will never underestimate the GOP’s ability to screw something up, and snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. But still. If this is how the Dems are thinking, we’re going to have to try pretty hard to lose another election anytime soon.
But if you thought that nobody could make dumber choices than the hard-core Democrat electorate…
Well, you’re probably right. I mean, look who they just picked to lead the DNC, and who they want for their standard bearer in 2028!
But if anyone can give them a run for their money in the Imbecile 500, it’s the delusional loons of PETA.
I’ll preface this by stating for the record that I love animals, and I’m all for stopping cruelty to them. (I’d rather spend time with Cassie the Wonder Dog than with many, many people, for example.) And I know that many animals are treated worse than they should be.
But you can leave it to PETA, when it’s early February and they need a beast to get hysterical about, to choose the one animal on earth, who – in the long and often sad story of animal-human interactions – has the LEAST reason for complaint. Yes, I’m talking about the weather-prognosticating groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil.
Seriously. If you had to be one specific animal (other than the aforementioned Cassie the Wonder Dog), who would you rather be than P-squared the groundhog?
Groundhogs are not slaughtered and eaten, or milked against their will, or made to perform in circuses. I’ve never heard of anyone showing off their groundhog-skin boots or pants or belts. I know a lot of hunters, and have seen plenty of animal heads on walls, but never a groundhog head, teeth bared in the terrifying expression he had just before he charged and was bravely shot.
I’ve also heard of cockfighting and dogfighting (those people should be executed, IMHO), but never of any high-stakes, gladiator-style groundhog duels to the death.
Also, I’m imagining that Punxsutawney Phil is probably pretty spoiled. He’s got to have the best groundhog gig ever: he works one hour per year, and I’m guessing that the rest of his life is one long cycle of gourmet groundhog food and a series of cute, plump little Punxsutawney Pamelas, brought to his hutch (or den, or wherever groundhogs live) like he was some kind of rodentian Hugh Hefner.
But that’s not good enough for the totally well-balanced people at PETA. They’re like, “Oh, the poor groundhog is overweight because he’s being overfed, and if that doesn’t kill him, a rodent STD or a heart attack in a middle of a decadent groundhog orgy probably will! Oh, won’t someone think of the rodents?!”
Meanwhile, Phil is in his pen or den or whatever, going, “Don’t screw this up for me, you freaking weirdos! Shouldn’t you be driving under the speed limit with two masks on in your Prius, crying your eyes out to a sad Sarah McLachlan song about hungry puppies? Mind your business!”
But the PETAns are not to be deterred. They can’t sleep at night as long as a celebrity rodent is having his round-the-clock routine of top-quality dining and sweet lady-groundhog tail interrupted for 10 minutes in front of the cameras, once a year.
So they’ve come up with an alternative to his winter-predicting schtick. And it’s even goofier than you imagined.
They want to bake a vegan cake, and have the people in Punxsutawney cut that cake on ground hog’s day. If the inside of the cake is one color, it indicates that winter is nearly over, but if it’s another, we’ll have the traditional 6 more weeks of winter.
I swear I’m not making this up. I mean, the horn-dog groundhogs thing is just speculation on my part. (I was three credits short of a minor in “Sexual Behavior in Rodents,” because I was focusing on my double-major in English and Sarcasm.) But the PETA part is an absolutely real thing.
And yes, it seems like a very stupid idea. But what did you expect from a bunch of nutjobs who are tortured by the thought of a groundhog living a life of epicurean and sensual delights?
Also consider this: since a vegan cake sounds absolutely awful, the best use of said cake would have to be cutting it in half, predicting a short or long winter, and then throwing it away. Forcefully.
Of course this got quickly mocked by the entire internet. My favorite jab was taken by an amateur meteorologist who posted, “That’s ridiculous. Everyone knows that cakes cannot predict the weather.”
But it did remind me of an old joke.
Q: If a vegan, a vegetarian and a PETAn jump off a cliff in a competition to see who hits the ground first, who wins?
A: Society.
Hogg/Warren, 2028!
Martin Simpson 