The Ballad Of A Stable Genius

Stable Genius Becomes Source Of Inspiration, Source Of Ridicule

New York (AP). Questions about the mental stability of the American president in recent days have led Donald Trump to claim he is a “stable genius” and that “my two greatest assets have been mental stability and being, like, really smart.” His remarks have been the subject of ridicule and scorn ever since from all quarters, with some noting that actual geniuses don’t have to say they’re geniuses. His usual assortment of apologists in the White House have been busy on news shows defending their boss and biting their tongues and restraining themselves from rolling their eyes.

Stable genius, meanwhile, has taken on a life of its own in memes, tweets, and other sources of humour since. The Chief Executive of the United States, true to form, has not taken it well, lashing out in tweet storms, insisting on his intelligence and academic credentials, and pointing out to anyone who will listen just how clever he is. “Bigly clever!” Trump tweeted at one point during all the ridicule before moving on to pick a twitter fight with the head of a Swiss orphanage.

The term seems to be inspiring in some ways as well. “We’ve been busy working on a new album,” Rolling Stones frontman Mick Jagger told reporters as the band was taking a break. Jagger and company, all looking like the ultimate example of what happens when you drink too much and spend too much time indulging in recreational drugs, have spent decades on and off playing the part of the badly behaving rebel, have been preparing for what some are calling the Steel Wheelchair Tour. “We’ve been going back and forth on album titles the whole time… and then he said what he said, and I looked at Keith, and he looked at me, and we both blurted out Stable Geniuses! It’s perfect!”

Another musician, often given to creative warping of another singer’s tune in his own way, is looking to make use of the term. “Stable genius?” parody singer Weird Al Yankovic told reporters at his own studio yesterday. “Just the fact that he said it in the first place is hilarious. So of course I’ve got to write a song centered around the idea of a stable genius and just totally skewer it. I’ve just got to figure out what song to work it into. Do you think Lady Gaga would mind if I messed around with one of her songs?”

Toby Keith, the country singer, professional drinker, cowboy hat wearer, and backer of the GOP, remains oblivious to the notion that the president isn’t the genius he claims to be. “Well, first off, stop making fun of Donald, okay? Second, that phrase is just perfect for a country song. Because we’re all about stables and horses and pick-up trucks and drinkin’ at the bar and all that great stuff, right? So as soon as I’m finished drinkin’ this pack of Coors, I’m writin’ my next big country hit, Stable Genius.”

The phrase has caught flak from some unlikely quarters. Online statements from someone answering to the name SmartyPants2.0 demanded the world stop using the term, claiming to be speaking on behalf of the Sacred Order Of The Stable Geniuses. “We are outraged that people are making fun of the term stable genius, which is so important to us. Simply because that man-child calls himself a stable genius is no reason to treat that term with such ridicule!” the statement read. Subsequent inquiries have determined that the Sacred Order is an enigmatic secret society with more veiled privacy protocols than the Freemasons and the Skull & Bones combined. As a post script, the statement ended with: “… and don’t let that Dan Brown start writing a book about us!”

Super villain and mad scientist Magnus Von Malice, currently imprisoned in Austria after his latest world domination scheme backfired on him, made a statement on the matter when visited by reporters. “First of all, anyone who’s paid any attention to the man knows he’s not a stable genius,” Von Malice remarked. “And I say that as someone who contributed a few million dollars to his campaign. Now then, if you want to see a stable genius, you could look at me, but I’d tell you that you’re wrong. Of course I’m not stable.”

The last word in the matter goes to one of Western society’s more dimwitted cultural figures. The explosion loving director Michael Bay wrote an enthusiastic statement on his Facebook page yesterday. “Stable genius! Great name for a movie, right? I’m thinking film noir classic meets rock n’ country soundtrack meets explosions meets art house cinematic Oscar winner with plenty of explosions. Did I mention the explosions?”

Not Exactly Your A-List Talent

So there's that whole inauguration thing in a couple of days. I decided to take shots not at the President-Elect (with one or two exceptions), but at the sort of "notable talent" that his inauguration might attract.

Top Notch Music Acts Fail To Materialize For Inauguration

Washington D.C. (Reuters) Last minute preparations are underway for the Friday inauguration of the president-elect after a divisive campaign on both sides. Boasts of millions of people attending the occasion have been met by shrugs from the city’s police, who expect less. American politicians and foreign diplomats have gone out of their way to explain why they’ll be doing other things that day. The president-elect has spent recent days picking fights with civil rights legends. And after previous inaugurations that have featured A-list singers, this occasion features anything but that.

The B-Street Band, a Bruce Springsteen tribute band that was booked years ago for the Garden State Gala the day before the inauguration, pulled out after criticism from fans, citing respect for Springsteen, who has been quite vocal in his dislike for the president-elect. Broadway singer Jennifer Holliday cancelled her own involvement. The president-elect’s team have had no end of headaches in getting any notable entertainer to show up. “It’s like this, and don’t use my name,” an anonymous Republican insider told this reporter. “It’s not like there are a lot of successful Republicans in Hollywood, but those few that are out there want nothing to do with showing up for this whole thing. I mean, seriously? We’ve got Chachi and some guy who was in a soap opera twenty years ago and neither of who have worked since. Those are the only actors who want to be there. And we’ve got Kid Rock, Ted Nugent, and Toby Keith lined up to perform. This is hardly what you’d think of as A-list talent, you know what I mean?”

Scott Baio, forever doomed to be known as Chachi, or Charles, if you’re really stretching his resume to include Charles In Charge, has been boasting as of late that he will surely have a cabinet or diplomatic position waiting. “Secretary Of Entertaining Propaganda!” Baio declared in a bar in Los Angeles last week as onlookers rolled their eyes. “Or Ambassador to Bermuda! I can lie on the beach all week and work on my tan. I mean, really, how hard can it be to be an ambassador? They work, what? Two hours a month?”

Antonio Sabato Jr., the aforementioned former soap star, has other ambitions. Reached by reporters in Washington, where he’s attending the run-up to the inauguration, the one-time heart throb and one note actor, wants back in familiar territory. “I want back on General Hospital,” he explained. “And I want the whole show to revolve around me, and when I’m not on the screen, people should be asking where my character is. Oh, and I never get written out. That’s iron clad. Fortunately now we have a president-elect who’s going to make sure that happens. General Hospital will soon be retitled General Hospital, Starring The World’s Greatest Actor, Antonio Sabato Jr. Is that a great title or what? Hey, stop snickering!”

In Moscow, President Vladimir Putin, the five foot four tall wannabe Tsar, is pleased by the impending inauguration. “Da, I am happy,” he told reporters after his latest staged photo op designed to stave off the ravages of time and create the impression he’s a tough guy. It involved racing around on a snowmobile bare chested and crossing the finish line before other competitors- all of whom were clearly holding back. “We have our strings to pull and the new president does what I say. He is, what you call? Yes, he is a puppet. Good times, my friends. Good times for Vladimir! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to my hollowed out volcano base and prepare my doomsday death ray.”

The failure of any substantial music act to sign on for the inauguration has caused the Trump team a great deal of problems in the days leading up to the event. “It’s very simple, and don’t use my name,” a key insider for the transition told reporters while desperately smoking a cigarette. “Damn things’ll kill me someday, but hey, if you gotta go, why not take a drag on a Marlboro? Anyway, where were we? Oh, right. Springsteen told us to go **** ourselves and said he’d never play for that... well, he used a colourful metaphor. So, I yelled at him that it’s President Asshole to him, and he should just get in line and bow down at the feet of the greatest of all presidents. Long story short, I’ve now got a restraining order against me by Mr. Not Born In The USA Springsteen. To be fair, it’s the four hundred seventy first restraining order against me, but between you and me, none of that is my fault.”

And so desperate times have called for desperate measures. Instead of A-list talent, the key entertainers for the occasion are three musicians. If you want to call them musicians. Ted Nugent has been irrelevant since the 1970s, known more in recent years for rather extreme views and instability. Kid Rock, who peaked in the 1990s and inexplicably is still using the Kid label despite being a balding man in his mid-forties. Toby Keith is a country act known for shamelessly promoting himself as a true patriot and picking fights with anyone who disagrees. Not one of these three could really be considered A-list talent, but all spoke out in support of the president-elect at one point or another during the campaign.

The first anonymous Republican insider sighed at the prospects. “So we’ve got a racist lunatic who crapped himself to get out of ‘Nam. We’ve got a wash-up singer who thinks he’s still a kid. And we’ve got a country singer who’s known for picking fights with the Dixie Chicks. Did I mention Toby wants to be appointed the Secretary For Kicking People In The Hindquarters? That’s not the word he used. These are the people who are going to be performing. We’ve got a betting pool going on as to how long it takes Nugent to insult the West Coast. I’ve got twenty bucks down on thirty five seconds.”

The three musicians have been doing sound checks for their performances, appearing together on stage while preparations continued. Kid Rock has stapled his hat to his head, lest it blow off and reveal the state of his hairline. “No big fans!” he yelled on Tuesday to workers at the Capitol. “My hat blows off on Friday, I’m gonna take it out on you, Pedro! No, I don’t care what your name is, you look like a Pedro!”

Keith, who’s never seen without a cowboy hat (leaving one wondering about the state of his hairline), and who spent the early part of his career with the mullet from hell, shrugged at his colleague. “Have you tried superglue? Keeps the hat straight on, don’t need to worry about it.”

Nugent seemed unhinged, ceasing to play his guitar, and spoke to the others. “I’ll tell you this, if Obama is re-elected to a third term, I’ll be dead or in jail inside of six months. I guarantee it.”

Keith looked puzzled- one expects it to be a common occurrence to the singer. “Um, Ted, I might be wrong here, but I don’t think he can be re-elected. Besides, we’re playin’ for the president-elect. The new guy. Donald Trump, remember?”

Nugent looked wide eyed. “Wait a minute, I thought we were playing for my inauguration! Didn’t I get elected to be President?” The reporters sighed, collectively rolling their eyes, and walked away. Nugent yelled at them, knocking over the mike. “Hey! Get back here! Don’t you walk away from me when I’m talking to you! Pay attention to me!”

In the opinion of this reporter, it’s too bad the gun loving Nugent has never met with a hunting accident. Perhaps a hunting excursion with Dick Cheney could solve the problem.

An Egomaniac And A Drunken Bastard

Explosion Prone Director Returns To Music Videos, Annoys Anyone With Taste And Refinement

Nashville (CP) Reporters were summoned to the offices of Show Dog/ Universal Music in the country music capital this week for a press conference. This included real reporters, as well as entertainment reporters and a subset of that latter group: country music entertainment reporters, who brought cowboy hats and boots to the mix. The real reporters, outnumbered by knuckle dragging slow witted entertainment reporters, wondered what this was all about. It turned out that the studio is the label for country singer Toby Keith, who ended up being one half of the two obnoxious irritants we were all here to see.

A spokesman came out on stage, calling for the attention of all. “Ladies and gentlemen, Show Dog/ Universal has gathered you all here for a big announcement about our founder Toby Keith, who by the way is backstage waiting.” The real reporters glanced at each other, wondering why, in a world with so many serious news stories, we had been subjected to covering an announcement by a country music singing slob who looked like he was hit by an ugly stick. Were we all on the outs with our editors? (editor: you damned well know why you’re on the outs with me, you smirking punk)

The spokesman carried on. “Mr. Keith has a new album in the works, which he’ll be speaking about, and he’s kicking it all off with news about a music video... and the director of that video, who’s here today. Ladies and gentlemen, give a big welcome to Toby Keith and Michael Bay!”

The two men came out on stage. Keith was dressed much as you’d expect- jeans, cowboy boots, denim shirt, and cowboy hat, a dumb grin plastered over his bearded face, waving to the crowd. Bay was, as always, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and a blazer, with his hair in its usual slightly dishevelled look, three or four days of stubble on his face. A full length mirror was quickly brought out on stage, placed beside the podium, and Bay took a look at himself, grinning and winking at himself. The egomaniacal movie director, given to endless amounts of explosions in films, actually started out in the music video genre. Was this a sign that the hack was going away at last, even with the many films he had in the works (editor: stop making fun of Michael Bay! He’s a great auteur!)

“Welcome to Nashville!” Keith called out, still smiling in that dumb way. This reporter couldn’t stop looking at his beat up hat, wondering idly if Keith was wearing it to hide a receding hairline in the same fashion that Garth Brooks did (editor: Hey! Don’t make fun of Garth!). “You know, I’m a real big fan of this man’s work as a director. I don’t know why he hasn’t gotten Oscars for every single film he’s ever made.”

Bay shrugged. “It must be one big conspiracy. Or the Academy voters aren’t fans of explosions, hot babes waxing cars, and more explosions.”

Keith shook his head. “How can anyone not be fans of that? Which is what brings us to what we’re all here for. See, I’ve done a lot of music videos with me bein’ in the middle of big parties with girls half my age and actin’ like I’m still in college... but I’ve never done a video that needed any Michael Bay explosions.”

Bay smiled. “And trust me, I know explosions.” This reporter sighed, wishing one of those pyrotechnic monstrosities would backfire on set and rid the world of Michael Bay once and for all.... (editor: I already told you, stop making fun of Michael Bay!) This reporter sighed again, wishing his editor would stop being such a cranky crank with horrible tastes in movies and music.

Keith nodded. “Absolutely! Which brings me to this announcement. My next album is going to be called Taking Out The Chicks. Now that might come across at first like the usual country music guys and gals down at the bar after drivin’ their pickup trucks and hangin’ out and gettin’ lucky, but that’s not what it’s meant to be. The whole album is fifteen songs of me takin’ shots at the Dixie Chicks.”

The feud goes back over twelve years, after the lead singer of the Dixie Chicks, Natalie Maines, made remarks during a concert deriding George W. Bush, as well as personal clashes between Keith and the Chicks. They’ve characterized him as ignorant, while he spent time posting doctored images of Maines with the late Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein at his concerts. Apparently after all this time the singer persists in his loathing of the trio.

Bay carried on. “Toby asked if I’d direct the first video off the album, for his song Ignorant This! Great title, by the way, Toby. And so it’s going to be a ten minute short movie, with Toby singing, pool parties with scantily clad young women running around, a few dozen explosions, and three women who we’ve cast who look rather like the Dixie Chicks. For the purposes of the video, they’re going to be the villains of the whole piece. You’ll know they’re the villains by the way they sneer.”

Entertainment reporters were abuzz. Country music reporters let out an unanimous “yeeeeeehaaaaw!” Real reporters collectively sighed in dismay and wished they could be anywhere else but covering a press conference held by a drunken hillbilly and an egomaniac. (editor: hey! Stop making fun of Michael Bay! And Toby Keith’s a great singer, so don’t insult him!) This reporter, shackled with an editor with horrific movie and music tastes... (editor: I am going to have you drawn and quartered, I swear to God!)

“Does it occur to you that the Dixie Chicks might not like being cast as the villains in a Michael Bay music video?” another reporter asked.

Bay looked confused. “Why wouldn’t they?”

Keith shrugged. “Look, they don’t have much of no sense of humour. While I do. Nothin’ I love more than havin’ a good time and goin’ out to a party and gettin’ hammered and havin’ a laugh. So what if I’m spendin’ a whole album pickin’ a fight with them? Country music loves me, and that’s all that matters.”

Bay smiled. “So we’re gonna be busy for a couple of weeks gettin’ this video together, having fun with pool parties and drinking and having hot babes wax cars and go swiming, and of course explosions. You’ll love what we’ve got in store! Trust me, I know what I’m doing!” This reporter watched Bay and Keith step off stage, seriously doubting Bay had ever in his life known what he was doing... (editor: damn you to hell, you smirking bastard!)

As a post script, the Dixie Chicks- Natalie Maines, Martie Maguire, and Emily Robison- took questions from reporters on the matter at hand. “That’s fine with us,” Maines confirmed.

“Yes, we’ve got a song coming up on the next album meant just for Toby,” Maguire added.

Robison finished up by saying, “We’re calling it Legend Of The Drunken Bastard.”

My Fellow Americans, You Betcha!

Some links before getting started. Norma wrote about drive in theatres. Parsnip had a Square Dog Friday. Shelly had an extension on her online novel. Lynn had a Pop Culture Frenzy post. Ivy had a Friday Question.

Today I have something entirely different. Dick Cheney might want to have me come over for a hunting weekend after this. And we all know how hunting weekends turn up at Chez Cheney.

Insane Candidates Join The Fray; Comedians Everywhere Rejoice

St. Louis (AP) A crowded Republican list of candidates for the 2016 Presidential election just got more crowded. With frontline candidates such as Jeb Bush, Rand Paul, Ted Cruz, Rick Santorum, and Rick Perry, and a slew of fringe candidates that include the egomaniacal bankruptcy prone casino developer Donald Trump already announcing their run at the Oval Office or expected to announce soon, two other Tea Party favourites have announced their joint run at the Presidency in this Mid-Western city yesterday.

Tea Party faithful were gathered at the America’s Center complex, along with media and staffers for the announcement. A flurry of faded politicians, hard right commentators, and washed up musicians were in attendance. Donald Rumsfeld, Pat Buchanan, John Ashcroft, Karl Rove, Herman Cain, Ari Fleischer, Newt Gingrich, Glenn Beck, Ann Coulter, Rush Limbaugh, and the urn containing the ashes of the late and not lamented right wing blogger Andrew Breitbart were among the most notable. Rocker and deranged lunatic Ted Nugent and country singer Toby Keith provided the entertainment and made veiled threats about anyone prying their guns from their cold dead hands. Nugent went on to repeat his oft mentioned question about why he wasn’t dead or in jail all this time after the previous election, given his remarks about the President, and rambled on and on, leaving one to wonder if he was drunk.

Then it was time for the big announcement. That announcement, of course, would come after Limbaugh, Coulter, Rumsfeld, Cain, Gingrich, and forty seven people from the lives and backgrounds of the two candidates made rambling and glowing tributes to both of them. As to which of the two would be the actual candidate was another matter. Finally after Keith finished performing ‘Courtesy of the Red, White, And Blue’, the singer made the announcement the Tea Party faithful and the Fox News reporters had been dying to hear. Those of us who are actual reporters had been rolling our eyes for at least two hours, wondering why the Republican party couldn’t field candidates who weren’t clinically insane or viewing the world with a mindset sixty years behind the times.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Hard workin’ Americans!” Keith bellowed, smiling like the cat that ate the canary. “Here they are, your next President and Vice President... and they’ll explain how they’re going to get around that all by themselves, they’re going to take the country back and put the boot in the ass to all those liberal commie haters who can’t stand eatin’ good ol’ American style steak, ladies and gentlemen.... Sarah Palin and Michelle Bachmann!”

Palin and Bachmann came out on stage, flashing the same vacant, slightly demented smiles they’re known for, accompanied by husbands and children, all of whom stood behind them on the stage. “Hello, America!” Palin called out, waving.

“Thanks for coming to our coming out!” Bachmann added. “Not that kind of coming out, mind you, the good kind!”

“You betcha!” Palin said with a grin confirming she wasn’t playing with more than a pair of twos, a three of spades, a ten of clubs, and one jack. The rest of the proverbial deck of cards that constituted her brain was long gone. “Gosh, golly, there are a lot of candidates out there for the Republican nomination in 2016, but when it comes down to it, the only way we’re goin’ to get those Dumbocrats outta the White House and Congress and every state house is if the two of us lead the way!”

Bachmann nodded. “So we’re gonna be President and Vice President! Or Co-Presidents to be more exact. Palin and Bachmann! Bachmann and Palin!”

Palin smiled again. “And we’re a team! So we’re gonna do things as a team. For instance, one day I’ll be the one in the Oval Office makin’ the big decisions and the next day Michele’s gonna be President for the day, and so on and so on. Presidents in turn!”

Aside from Tea Party faithful and Fox reporters, who broke out into gleeful applause, real reporters rolled their eyes and groaned. Did neither of these halfwits understand the basic concepts of the Constitution and division of executive powers? A Reuters correspondent spoke up. “You do realize the Constitution might have something to say about that kind of arrangement.”

Palin shrugged. “The Constitution? Who cares about the Constitution?”

Bachmann nodded. “Yeah, we’re goin’ to have it burned after we impose martial law and name ourselves Presidents For Life anyway.”

Palin looked confused. “Did we just think that, or say that out loud?”

“I don’t know,” Bachmann replied. She laughed in her typically demented way. “Look, what’s important is takin’ this country back from those godless latte slurpin’ commie liberals gettin’ in our way. And we gotta set this country back to the way things oughtta be, isn’t that right, Rush?” Limbaugh nodded enthusiastically. “That means Republicans in charge of everything, opposition destroyed, liberals caged up in super prisons if they so much as look at us funny....”

“You do realize you just said that out loud, right?” this reporter called out.

Bachmann frowned. “What’s your name? You’re goin’ on the enemy list!”

Palin smiled, shrugged, and remarked, “what do you expect from the lamestream media? You know, you don’t like America, Mr. Fancy Pants Reporter, why don’t you go to Russia?  You can see it from my house, if you squint real hard. America’s ours, a God fearin’, butt kickin’, beer drinkin’ steak and eggs apple pie gosh golly country that’s the greatest country on Earth! Everybody else eats our dust!”

Bachmann carried on. “This is our vision for America: a country full of freedom and fire and brimstone preachin’ and Mom’s apple pie, and the right to bear arms bein’ the only part of the Constitution we’ll keep, and Ronald Reagan statues in every town, and marriage being only between a man and a woman, and sex only being after marriage for the purpose of havin’ babies, with all the lights turned off. And Alan Jackson and Toby Keith and Ted Nugent tourin’ the country performin’ and keepin’ the dream alive. And no more Obamacare and lots of tax cuts for our corporate buddies and beer all around. And the Dixie Chicks in a concentration camp for ever darin' to insult a Republican president, am I right, Toby?”

Toby Keith stood up and applauded. “You sure are! I hate those Dixie Chicks!”

Bachmann laughed. “And while we’re at it, we gotta bring the rest of the world to heel, right, Sarah?”

Palin nodded. “Absolutely. That means takin’ down that Putin guy once and for all, and droppin’ some nukes on South Korea, and while we’re at it, a few nukes all over the Middle East. Get rid of those Iraqi Anwar Sadat fans once and for all.” This reporter shook his head- did this woman even know when she was making factual errors?

Bachmann continued. “What the world needs to know is that we’re in charge. That means respectin’ us and doin’ what we say or pay the price.” The fact that she said that with her usual vacant smile made the expression all the more disturbing. “That also includes gettin’ even with that Mountie who came down here a few months ago and beat up a few thousand of Rush’s supporters.” Limbaugh was nodding enthusiastically at this point. “No one makes Dittoheads bleed and cry and gets away with it! Canada, either you give us that Metallica drummin’ Mountie so we can have him drawn and quartered, or we drop nukes on you!”

Palin nodded. “Gosh golly, when we’re through, those godless liberal commie fascists won’t recognize the land of the red, white, and blue!” This reporter sighed in dismay, expecting that the difference between communism and fascism was too complicated for the mind of Sarah Palin. “Michele and me, we’re gonna take this country in the right direction, and we’re gonna be the most benevolent overlord rulers of any country everywhere! We’re gonna get back to the basics, and that means steppin’ up and doin’ what we say, and that means you, Levi Johnston! Time to man up and marry Bristol, you punk! And sure enough, give those commie liberals enough time and they’ll come around to see things our way. Or we can just toss ‘em all into some concentration camp with the Dixie Chicks and the gays and the peace activists and the Supreme Court and the holdout Dumbocrats."

Michele smiled in that delirious way of hers. “God help America.... I mean, God bless America! Remember, in 2016, vote Palin and Bachmann!”

“Or Bachmann and Palin!” Palin added.  “Vote for us! You can trust us! I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?”

The two left the stage to the sound of Toby Keith and Ted Nugent jamming in a strange rendition of God Bless America. As to the question of what was the worst that could happen, this reporter was envisioning nuclear holocaust. Granted, what were the chances? Who in their right minds would even vote for this pair of dolts?

GOP party bosses were horrified at the prospect of Palin and Bachmann running for the nomination. The Koch brothers were busy hedging their bets, wondering how much bribe money would be needed to control them. This reporter wondered if the Koch brothers ever thought they’d be spending less money just paying taxes than blowing it on political manipulation. And up in Canada, RCMP Inspector Lars Ulrich was cautiously approached by other reporters, who informed him of the demand by the Palin/ Bachmann team. “Drawn and quartered?” he asked, smiling in a strange way. “Well, they’re welcome to try.”

Late night comedians were ecstatic at the thought of a Palin/Bachmann run at the nomination and the sheer possibility of ways they could work this into monologues. “However long this campaign lasts,” Conan O’Brien told reporters, “we’ll have plenty of material to use for years.”

Stephen Colbert, due to take over David Letterman’s old spot on the Late Show in September, mused on getting an early start to take advantage of the full comic possibilities that a Palin/ Bachmann ticket presented. And Jon Stewart, host of The Daily Show, soon to move on, was stunned to hear the news. He told reporters, “They choose now to run for the nomination? This is a dream come true. I wonder if it’s too late to change my mind.”