What with tonight’s McCain/Obama tête-à-tête being possibly canceled due to inclement fiscal weather, our collective appetite for debate remains unsated.
Please enjoy this debatable article, unearthed from circa the 2004 presidential-election era, and recall that it doesn’t matter who wins the argument; only who steals Ohio.
I have a plan to succeed and to win. That’s my plan. It’s a hard job, being leader of an island full of castaways. It’s hard work. I know how to lead an island full of castaways. I know how to lead—I’m a skipper! That’s what skippers do: they lead. And I will lead this island to victory. I will lead us to the state of being rescued. But to do that, we’ve got to send a message, to our rescuers. My opponent says that we set sea aboard the wrong boat, at the wrong time, in the wrong direction. At this tenuous moment, how can we afford to send mixed messages to the world?
The Professor was for my coconut plan before he was against it.
Just last week, the Professor said he supported my plan to assemble coconuts to spell “Help” along the shoreline so that planes flying overhead might see it. Then he was against it. He supported my decision to grant a coconut-tax cut for the millionaire and his wife, then he was against it.
I’ve worked closely with Gilligan as my first mate. He is a mighty sailing man, and I am brave and sure. Our alliance is strong. And I’m optimistic. See, I think you can be realistic and optimistic at the same time. I’m optimistic we’ll achieve our objective—I know we won’t achieve if we send mixed signals.
By being steadfast and resolute and strong, by keeping our word, we can achieve rescue. I have faith in God, and faith in you, the people of this great island. I appreciate your listening tonight, and I ask for your vote. And may God continue to bless our great isle.
My opponent’s administration is skilled at spinning that fateful trip into a triumph for their party. But who is it that has failed you? The weather reports remained unread in the Skipper’s cabin, and we paid dearly for his miscalculations. The Minnow was lost. We’ve been on this island for far too long. Our Skipper got us into this mess, and he has been thus far unable to get us off. The Skipper has effectively alienated us from the world. We are lost at sea, and we must rely on any nation’s Coast Guard for help. Time and again, we’ve been visited by downed Air Force pilots, by Larry Storch and Hans “Wrongway” Conried, even by the Harlem Globetrotters. And our Skipper has let them all leave, further isolating us from our would-be rescuers.
Until we get through this, we must keep this island safe. Over 95 percent of the driftwood that washes ashore remains uninspected. Our coastlines are unsecure from the native cannibals and witch doctors from neighboring isles in this archipelago. In all this time, we still have yet to explore the other half of our own island.
The weather reports remained unread in the Skipper’s cabin, and the Minnow WAS lost.
I have a plan for rescue. I believe we must reach out and accept offers from any nation that will help us. I believe we can construct a raft from palm-tree trunks and twine and sail toward freedom. Also, I believe we can lessen our dependence on Saudi oil. Ladies and gentlemen, I have a message to you: Help is on the way.
Thank you, and for God’s sake, please stop letting this goofy idiot make decisions for you.