America’s Moment Of Zen

I feel the need to beg Jon Stewart. Please, Jon. Run.

Right now in the Democratic Field, there is no one with the skill set necessary to beat Donald Trump. This is the calling of Democracy: to recognize when the thing you’re good at has become the defining commodity of your time.

Fame is the defining commodity.

This is how Donald Trump won. He recognized his ability to push people around for ratings had been sharpened to a fine point by Reality TV. Having said that, you might wonder when it happened, when was the exact moment that Donald Trump decided to go all in on the presidency.

It happened when he was razzed by Barack Obama at the White House Correspondents Dinner. Right then and there, he decided to run.

Sometimes you run for a good reason, you’re compelled by The Audacity of Hope. Sometimes you run for a bad reason, you’re thin skinned and can’t take a joke. Either way, as long as you win, history affords you the opportunity to lift people or step on their necks.

This week, I watched Jon Stewart lift a heavy load.

He went to Washington for an appeal on behalf of The First Responders of 9/11 who are suffering under the crushing burden of health care costs. Can you believe it? There’s always enough money for guns and bullets and tanks and bombs but there is never any money left over to deal with the insurmountable suffering.

Suffering doesn’t play well on prime time. But you know what does: Jon Stewart going up against Mitch McConnell. It was glorious. I’m meditating right now on how much joy it brought me.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOMG!!!

Please Jon, if you won’t run for the presidency against Fuckface Von Clownstick, then move your farm to Kentucky and run against Moby Dickless, Mitch McConnell.

We need your thoughtfulness in this upside down world. We need your sense of humor in these dark days.

We need the things you care about to be the things we know are being addressed in Washington. We need your ability to push back against the dull outrage of MAGA TROLLS with jokes. They’re thin skinned. They can’t take a joke. Your power to generate laughs at their expense is the antidote to the madness.

Here it is. America’s moment of zen.

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