Walking shoes

I Reluctantly Yield to Being Forced Out

It is with sadness and bitter recriminations that I am forced to announce my withdrawal from the 2016 Presidential race and each of its nominating contests. Apparently, I should have picked a political party. Or even just developed some sort of coherent ideology. I did try talking to the same narrow groups of people, like old white men and sassy young Asian emoji users, but both of these targeted groups were confused by my message about walking down busy roads. It’s not hard, people: go against the traffic. I’m guessing that many of them did not follow my advice, and are now dead. It’s a tough business, politics.

I also lost a lot of support among Canadians. I learned that some of these strange foreigners have obtained American citizenship, yet still complain about our beer and donuts every chance they get. I can only conclude it was a strategic error to decry Molson’s and whip up anti-Tim Horton’s fervor. Thus, owing to my cratering popularity with this influential bloc of voters and their insidious Canadian lobbying apparatus, I can no longer afford to fly business class. Look, I flew commercial, but there is no way I am flying coach. Have you smelled the people back there?

So I have truly learned the great lesson of politics: demographics is destiny. That never sounded grammatically correct to me, so I ignored it.

But I cannot thank my supporters enough, so I won’t try very hard. First, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude for the thousands of people who made my candidacy possible by being direct forebears. At some point, they were all some kind of ape, but by being relentlessly pressured to survive, they produced me, their most advanced version. Thank you, obsolete predecessors. You have no idea how much you mean to me, because of your smaller brains.

I also want to thank my major donors (Keds Corporation) and their super PAC, “Stride for Greatness Independent Dollar Handling.” Their consistent support and innovative social media outreach foundered on a misplaced faith in Tinder and tinyletter.com, which is like a newsletter, but online and kind of an app too. I don’t really understand how either of them work, to be honest. But I steadfastly tried both of them. I should clarify, to put all the rumors to rest, that I never had relations with that woman. At that point, she pretty clearly looked like a man, and my public newsletters to her should be read as such.

When I started this campaign, I had one goal in mind: Swiss Ambassador. That place is amazing, and has all three major European food groups (fish, pasta, and wurst). Barring that, I wanted to achieve what every public servant hopes to achieve: a series of revolving opportunities in government and business that allows me to leverage my insider connections to achieve regulatory capture and enrich my progeny, who I hope will have even bigger heads than mine. I still believe that this is possible in America. With that in mind, I will be joining the corporate board of Keds until I’m offered a low-level Cabinet post like assistant underdeputy for the überdeputy undersecretary for podiatrical alleviation. Really, anything to do with feet. They taste better than Labatt’s and smell better than 29C.

More importantly, by continuing my fight to get people to walk around looking at things, I hope to continue sparking a revolution in political awareness. We must come to realize that our society can be improved. We can purge all of our monuments of slave-owners so that only Lincoln is ever commemorated; we can overturn Obamacare and see if it works better upside down; we can institute statewide public school voucher programs that break the link between local funding, educational opportunities, and neighborhood social and economic segregation; we can build sidewalks—American sidewalks! It’s only a matter of political will. As my elderly great-grand-monkey used to say: “If there’s a will, there’s something in it for you.” That’s never been more true than today.

Dalton 2016

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