Episode 44: Our Collective Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

In the forty-fourth episode of The Latest, we donate Gap gift certificates to President Kanye West’s super PAC. Event planner Megan Childers joins the program for this week’s O.J. Simpson Twitter Update.

Episode 44: Our Collective Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy
Season 2

 
 
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Transcript

Those voices are discussing President Kanye West, three words more off-putting than cruise ship buffet, Bari Weiss editorial, and “starring John Travolta.” 

The Grammy winner’s Late Registration to run for the nation’s highest office despite a lack of experience and history of public service once again demonstrates that, best intentions aside, no one man should have all that power.

Neither a Democrat nor a Republican, Mr. West claims to be a member of the Birthday Party, a fitting alliance for the guy who’s been dogged by rumors that he once kicked 60 kids out of a Chuck E Cheese, where he grabbed the mic from Jasper T. Jowls to inform the rest of Munch’s Make Believe Band that the Tooth Fairy Award should have gone to Pasqually Pieplate.

In a wide-ranging interview with Forbes, itself a publication named for a guy who barely ran for president, Mr. West laid out the details of his policy platform in carefully-curated drops that reminded the world that some of his best work came from the time in which his jaw was wired shut. 

Among Mr. West’s many concerns, he’s worried that “they want to put chips inside us,” presumably referring to Bill Gates or the shadowy Soros-controlled Pringles lobby, and he expressed the belief that Planned Parenthood has been placed inside cities by white supremicists to to the devils work, such as cervical cancer screenings that act as a front for Satanists to release smoke monsters out of their crotch, like that red lady in Game of Thrones. 

Mr. West is also skeptical of a coronavirus vaccine, believing it’s the mark of the beast itself — so if you’re willing to take a gamble on it, be sure to inject no more than 665 milligrams. 

Presidential publicity stunts are nothing new, like that time Gerald Ford broke his pelvis trying to jump Snake River Canyon. 

Howard Stern, Cher, Kid Rock Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson — they’ve all entertained the notion that the nation should be led by entertainers. 

Which is, of course, a common career path in the USA — a professional wrestler became the professional governor of Minnesota, a comedian became the hands-on senator of Minnesota. A movie cowboy became governor and President because he could remember his lines and, unfortunately, not much else. 

Just a few weeks ago on this program, I took issue with the US obsession with celebrity culture, and the byproduct of Mr. West switching his medication has already given him 2% in the polls — certainly not a path to 270, but a strong enough showing to make Lincoln Chaffee jealous of his deep, bedrock support.

Is Yeezy serious? It doesn’t matter, because the entire enterprise has become a god damned joke. And even though we already know the punchline, we’ve decided we want to keep slamming shots at the bar we walked into with the priest, the rabbi, and the minister. 

Running for any office is a popularity contest, I get that, but this country is addicted to the idea that popularity actually means anything — just because I saw Mark Cuban buy an ass wipe company on ABC prime time doesn’t mean he’s the one who should be balancing the federal budget. 

This country has a serious problem with civic duty, and our politics-as-sports-and-entertainment, making a rundown of Congressional hearings and trade negotiations resemble a Tony Kornheiser segment, means the loudest voice in the room always has to win. 

But to me, it’s the quiet voices that should be demanding our attention. The scientists, the economists, the city planners, the public policy data nerds — the people who closed down the library while the rest of the campus was huffing bags of glue after a football game. 

A blue checkmark should be seen as a bug, not a feature, and we should be led by people who have led actual lives rather than the lives a brand manager decided had the strongest A-B tested filter and caption on Instagram. 

Bartender Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez ran for office to address, among other things, income inequality, something you tend to experience when someone leaves a $1 tip on a $65 shot of Johnny Walker Blue to demonstrate two entirely different levels of bad taste.

When Stacy Abrams ran for governor, she personalized her own struggles with student loan debt after law school and credit card debt following Hurricane Katrina.  

Unlike Johnny Depp’s $30,000 a month wine habit, which should really be spent towards getting people drunk enough to enjoy one of his films, these public servants sought to tackle relatable issues that people struggle with.

Back around 2007, Barack Obama’s popularity led many to assert that he was the first celebrity president — but by the time he was elected, he had been, among other things, a U.S. Senator, State senator, civil rights attorney, law professor, and community organizer.

Maybe I’ll stump for Representative Kardashian once she finishes law school, litigates civil rights cases for a decade, and avenges her father’s death by finally tracking down the real killer. 

Like Oscar Pistorius forgetting to grab his carbon fiber blades before fleeing a murder scene, the United States is not currently running very well.

And if we really want to be guided by a mentally unstable grifter who sleeps with pornstars, peddles tasteless, expensive apparel, and profits off of his tenuous grasp on the Bible, it’s easy enough to re-elect the one we’ve already got.