The Kerry Joke

Since the mighty Dubs are all set to knock ‘em out of the championship, the only thing Kerry can possibly win this year is the Presidency of the United States of America. What a poor substitute for glory in Croker, eh?

Still, who isn’t looking forward to Dubya finally getting run out of a town on a rail, even if his replacement is about as charismatic as a re-run of Oireachteas Report.
Sam had brewed up some strong coffee in order to get through John Kerry’s nomination night on the box but long before the shovel-chinned one hit the stage – ‘round about the time one of his daughters, as part of the warm-up act, was recalling how Dad had once jumped in a lake to save their drowning hamster (I kid you not) – I realised that caffeine was hardly going to do the trick and chopped out a dozen lines of king-hell crank instead.
But even the world’s most potent marching powder had to work overtime to keep my eyeballs from rolling back in my head as Kerry’s so-called Band Of Brothers – a group of Vietnam vets – marched on stage to sing the praises of their former patrol boat skipper. And that was before a seriously disabled senate veteran – down three limbs since ‘Nam – rolled up to finally introduce the mainman as though the Second Coming itself was at hand.

Solemn Voiceover
Jesus H. Christ (for it wasn’t he), I’ve seen Rose Of Tralee festivals that had more class and dignity and gravitas than this. And that’s without even mentioning the video hagiography complete with what looked like out-takes from Apocalypse Now and a solemn voiceover by Morgan Freeman. Or the use of Springsteen’s ‘No Surrender’ as Kerry entered the arena and U2’s ‘Beautiful Day’ as he left. (No marks for originality there, considering that Springsteen was previously pressed into service by Ronnie Raygun, and the U2 track is used to promote football on the box. Frankly, I’d have been more impressed if Kerry had run out to the ‘Match Of The Day’ theme).
As to the speech itself, the best line wasn’t even his own; instead he had to acknowledge that old Abe Lincoln was the man who originally remarked that, more important than having God on your side, was being on the side of God. Well, either old Lincoln or young Bobby Dylan, says you.
Which sounds very good until you stop and think and realise that since there is about as much compelling evidence for the existence of a Supreme Deity as there is for the tooth fairy, John Kerry’ s very best shot is actually based on nothing more than witless superstition.
Anyway, with JK rolling, it didn’t really matter a whole heap what he said, at least as far as his captive audience in Boston was concerned. Kerry only had to raise an eyebrow and a standing ovation ensued. Out in TV land it was different, one suspects, though the general consensus afterwards was that Kerry hadn’t done any harm to his presidential prospects.
Which is more than can be said for his ill-advised pre-convention photo shoot down in Cape Canaveral, the one that made him look like a human condom. Or, as a gleeful New York Post had it, like Woody Allen as that nervous sperm in Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Sex But Were Afraid To Ask. The Post ran the pic of Kerry on its front page with the headline ‘Boston, We Have A Problem’ accompanied by the delicious strap ‘Spaceman Kerry’s goofy photo flub’. Sam doesn’t even know what a ‘flub’ is when it’s at home, but it sounds about right.

Downright Goofy
The real problem with the photo is that it did indeed make Kerry look downright goofy – and until now, that had been the exclusive preserve of President Bush. You all know the startled cartoon face, the one Dubya does for no good reason, and often when he’s supposed to be saying something solemn and profound – as someone once said in another context, it’s a bit like the look a dog might give you if you showed him a card trick. How could Kerry possibly make that dingbat expression look good? But he has.
“Help is on the way,” is the stirring call to arms of the Kerry camp but with Sam Snort refusing any and every overture to join the campaign, it’s hard to see where the much-needed inspiration will come from. At the moment, there isn’t even a hint of extra-curricular poontang on the horizon, so Kerry can’t even hope to play the hammer-man card which did ol’ Bubba Clinton no harm at all.
The way things stand, in what’s likely to be a hard-fought encounter between the absurd and the mediocre, it could even be that Kerry will fail to dislodge the most incompetent and idiotic American president in living memory.
But at least that savage own goal will allow Sam Snort to be first in line with the big mic and the crucial question: “Mr Kerry, sir, why the long face?”

Your ever lovin’ Samuel J. Snort Esq