Dogfight (11 page)
Authors: Calvin Trillin
The Female Reproductive System
(A lecture by Representative Todd Akin, a member of the House Committee on Science, Space, and Technology)
Legitimate rape will just shut the thing down.
So if she gets pregnant, it shows that her gown
Was cut way too low or she had on a skirt
So tight it revealed an intention to flirt.
In some way she wanted to show off her shape.
And thus it was not a legitimate rape.
Legitimate rape will stop the thing cold.
So if she gets pregnant she might not have told
The fellow to stop, and not be so rough—
Or maybe she told him, but not loud enough.
Or utterly failed to make good her escape.
And thus it was not a legitimate rape.
Reaching the Starting Line
As delegates prepared for their excursions
To Tampa, Romney faced some more diversions.
For one, a hurricane was on its way;
That forced the cancellation of one day.
The winds turned west, but speakers would perform
In TV competition with a storm.
The Show Must Go On
Republicans wonder how they will fare
With Anderson Cooper not even there.
The fervent followers of Dr. Paul
Then staged a small kerfuffle in the hall.
In Tampa, Mitt’s men had to have a plan,
Some said, to somehow humanize their man.
But Mitt would share his innermost concerns
Around the time he showed his tax returns.
Reveal himself? No, Mitt would not be forced;
The humanizing had to be outsourced.
And so Ann Romney, Mitt’s appealing bride,
Proclaimed there was a human being inside
This mannequin. Of this she seemed assured.
No details, though. We’d have to take her word.
The delegates went wild when Ryan fed
To them much meat that was the deepest red—
Though tainted by his facts, so checkers said.
They said he’d lied, or certainly misled.
Clint Eastwood’s turn on stage was so bizarre
It was more memorable than Mitt’s by far.
It seemed like Clint, his chair, and their vignette
Had wandered in from some adjoining set.
Mitt Romney asked us all to contemplate
If we are better off than in ’08.
Though he neglected mentioning our troops.
(Did Perry, watching, silently say “Oops”?)
Mitt did speak well, but still did not illumine
The question on folks’ minds: Is this dude human?
Calling In the Humanizer Man
Analysts say that Romney campaign strategists face the challenge of humanizing their candidate.
—News reports
They’d like it if this man the folks are seeing
Resembled more an actual human being.
For that he’d need some warmth and schmaltz and soul;
Then he’d appear less cut-out and more whole.
So in their dreams of triumph they aspire
To show that their guy bleeds and may perspire.
This can be done at once, without delay:
The Humanizer Man is on his way.
Yes, any candidate with boardlike stiffness
Can be adjusted with surprising swiftness.
The Humanizer Man’s done this before.
Though he fell short of loosening Al Gore,
He’s had a host of triumphs in his day.
So if Mitt’s men believe, to their dismay,
Their man’s as human as a Charolais,
It isn’t hard to make things A-OK.
They simply need to go to him and say,
“The Humanizer Man is on his way.”
A few days later, pollsters would announce
The absence of a Mitt convention bounce.
The undecideds still would not decide;
Essentially, the candidates were tied
As Democrats prepared to cheer their cheers
In Charlotte in support of “Four More Years.”
Festivities were bound to start off well:
The not-so-secret weapon was Michelle.
She was, in polls, the most adored Obama.
The role she seemed to revel in: First Mama.
About her speech encomia were written.
The Charlotte delegates were plainly smitten.
The platform’s words, though, critics said, ignored
Jerusalem and mentioned not the Lord.
So missing passages were then restored,
With machinations some saw as untoward.
The bloggers might have made this all the rage,
Except that night Bill Clinton took the stage.
Addressing crowds, he somehow strikes a tone
That seems to be for you and you alone,
As if you two are walking arm in arm.
He spoke with clarity, he spoke with charm,
And what he asked that Charlotte night was whether
You’re on your own or we’re in this together.
Obama’s speech was good, of course, whereas
Bill Clinton gave a speech with real pizzazz.
Upstaged? Well, yes, but by a speech with flair,
And not by Eastwood and an empty chair.
Convention Bounce
From Charlotte, Obama had hoped for a bounce.
It came in a way unforeseen:
When William J. Clinton had spoken his piece,
He’d furnished a strong trampoline.
September Surprise
September’s job report was disappointing.
That didn’t mean that folks were now anointing
Mitt Romney as the President to be.
In fact, the pundits all agreed that he
Had lots of work to do to crack the code
That might yet make the White House his abode.
The polls on Medicare had now adjusted;
They showed the Democrats again more trusted,
And Medicare, the pollsters soon found out
Was something voters truly cared about.
On economic issues Mitt had led;
The polls now showed Obama was ahead.
Responding to some embassy attacks,
Mitt fumbled both his timing and the facts.
What made Mitt’s odd response so consequential
Was this: It simply wasn’t presidential.
It led Barack Obama to proclaim
Mitt liked to fire first and then take aim.
Some asked which campaign hand had made the slip
That let Mitt shoot this wild shot from the hip.
From his own party, critics had begun
To question how the Mitt campaign was run.
One thought few party loyalists disputed:
The Mitt campaign just had to be rebooted.
A Rallying Cry from the Romney Camp
Amid Discord, Romney Seeks to Sharpen Message on His Agenda
—New York Times
headline
We’ve got to go now hell for leather.
We’ve got to get our act together,
’Cause even right-wing pundits say
That this campaign’s in disarray.
We must confess it’s such a mess
We find it difficult to press
Our message that this country needs
A man who’s proven by his deeds
That he can turn a firm around,
That he is someone who’s renowned
For skills in management writ large.
But wait: That’s who we’ve got in charge.
The next misstep the party would bemoan
Was made by Mitt entirely on his own.
While on the coast of Florida in May,
Behind closed doors he’d managed to convey
A stark contempt, as if he were Ayn Rand,
For nearly half the people in the land.
They paid no income tax, he said, and should
Be written off as wed to victimhood.
He’d not engage, he said, in the futility
Of urging them to take responsibility
For their own lives, because they’d never do it.
It would be wasted effort to pursue it.
A camera was there, behind some fern.
(One wonders: Will these people never learn?)
The tape was aired. A firestorm began,
Diverting Mitt from his rebooting plan.
And even party loyalists were shaken:
Some thought they might as well have run Todd Akin.
The press said this was truly Mitt, denuded.
The group he’d cruelly written off included
Some people whose support he most desired—
Say, wounded vets and old folks who’d retired.
And some, with payroll tax they do submit,
Were paying at a higher rate than Mitt.
I’ve Got the Mitt Thinks I’m a Moocher, a Taker Not a Maker, Blues
(Sung by three members of the 47 percent)
Well, I work two jobs and that makes for a kinda long day.
And the boss deducts the payroll tax that I’ve gotta pay.
With sales tax, too, I kinda thought I was paying my dues.
I’ve got the Mitt thinks I’m a moocher, a taker not a maker, blues.
Well, the wife and I took retirement some years ago.
And social security accounts for most of our dough.
Though we contributed to that so we’d have it there to use.
I’ve got the Mitt thinks I’m a moocher, a taker not a maker, blues.
Well I went to ’Nam while Mitt went on his mission to France.
A buddy needed rescuin’ and I thought, “Well, I’ll take a chance.”
A wounded-vet pension’s not the salary that I would choose.
I’ve got the Mitt thinks I’m a moocher, a taker not a maker, blues.
(All, in chorus)
Yes, he thinks we’re bums, and work is something we would refuse.
Entitlements, he says, are what we just live to abuse.
With his fat cat friends what he says about us is
j’accuse.
So some of us moochers would sure like to see him lose.
We’ve got the Mitt thinks that we’re moochers, takers and not makers, blues.
It was, some said, the worst campaign week ever—
And one that could torpedo Mitt’s endeavor.
The problem that the swing-state polls defined:
The race was close, but Romney was behind;
While Romney’s share of swing-state polls was sinking,
The “undecided” slice of polls was shrinking.
Some party chiefs were daunted by Mitt’s lag.
They’d once thought that they had this in the bag.
Some right-wing commentators were aghast.
They said that something had to change—and fast.
Falling Back
