Playback speed
×
Share post
Share post at current time
0:00
/
0:00
Transcript

Crotty for President: my inaugural townhall, featuring Rainbow Brother Duncan Sylvester of Marin County, USA!

After watching five minutes of Tuesday night's Presidential debate, my worst fears were confirmed: we can do so much better. I will now engage in a series of constituent calls to model the better way.

It is painful to be an American right now, with such inane, unprepared options for President and such dangerously biased media rooting for and covering for one team. I need an escape hatch to another country, portal, or universe of excellence. But I will try to remain in the CrotMo trenches and demonstrate the excellence that our two standard-bearers congenitally cannot.

As I know from direct experience working in Congress during his first term, Trump will advance the most policies I can support, except for his stupid tariffs. Though I don’t think he has the necessary heart to go win the war for Ukraine, with RFK, Jr. by his side he would be a necessary governor on NeoCon adventurism.

Still, I can no longer abide his fabulations, exaggerations, exhaustingly tired lines, his grotesque lack of preparation, knowledge, and nuance, and his staggering inability to deeply listen. I just wish he would go into hiding and let Ivanka, Melania, and Vivek campaign for him. Do the Biden basement strategy, so we can fondly remember Trump from the days when he was fresh, original, and inspiring.

By contrast, itsy-bitsy Kamala Harris is the Pony League pitcher trying to make it in the big leagues. She is, at best, a figurine, not even a figurehead. She is an astoundingly mediocre mess of word salad and fuzzy thinking. She’s never run a business and knows zero about basic economics. She spews trained words and plans, yet she has no intimate grasp of what she is saying, nor is there any indication she believes what she is saying except perhaps when it comes to abortion. She's like some weird, giddy, stoned, nasally, wind-up candidate doll. I'd rather listen to a high-powered lawnmower two inches from my ear than listen to fatuous Kamala Pablum for one more second.

For good reason, Iowans saw right through her charade in 2020. She did not win one primary vote. If Kamala tossed out tinfoil packets of Loess Hills meth, Iowans would not have voted for her. If she’d screamed “Husk Nebraska!” they would not have voted for her. If she publicly injected ethanol into her veins, it would not have mattered. They hated her that much. With Kamala, increased exposure leads to increased contempt, which is why her handlers hide her from direct probing interviews, let alone press conferences. A staged 3-on-1 “debate” on a home-team, biased network like ABC does not count.

I could have crushed both of these clowns in the Tuesday night cosplay. And I proved it in the video above. I demonstrated how a legitimate President should answer the deepest concerns of Americans without preparation, notes, handlers, or a good night’s sleep. That a schlump like me could perform better than these two frauds shows you how deep the rot is in our land.

Crotty Farm Report is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, plesse consider becoming a paid subscriber.

Discussion about this podcast