The Debate

I started to watch the debate between Republican presidential contenders on Fox News last night. Twenty minutes in a friend called to talk about the death of a woman we both knew and the memorial service we’re organizing. By the time we said our good-byes, the debate was wrapping up.

I should send my friend a thank-you card for for her timely and welcome call. The debate, from what I did absorb, consisted of buzzwords, predictable talking points, and appeals to the lowest common denominator. I’ve have become needlessly upset had I gotten wrapped up in it. Still, I did pick up on a couple of things:

I perked up when Donald Trump said he made donations to politicians in order to have them in his pocket. No matter what you think of Mr. Trump, you have to give him this: you won’t hear any other Republican candidate talking honestly about political bribery.

I also perked up when Rand Paul and Chris Christy exchanged shouts about NSA spying on Americans’ phone calls and emails. Paul seemed to be saying the Bill of Rights needs to be taken seriously; Christy seemed to be saying “not if there are political points to be scored.”

Trump came across as an eight-year-old boy. Boorish, vulgar, unable to relate to others or to shut up. When Megyn Kelly asked him about the horrible things he’s said about women, he dodged the question by condemning political correctness. That, in turn, drew cheers from the Republican audience, who clearly pine for the days when they could openly call people niggers, spics, chinks, kikes, and cunts.

Ooh, I’m becoming needlessly upset! Let us instead enjoy a little post-debate burst of spite from our favorite eight-year-old: