English Whore Seeks Presidency

By Dennis Bohr

Good afternoon. I’m Dennis Bohr the English Whore, and I’m glad to
see such a big turnout to kick off my presidential campaign. It’s gratifying
especially since I never even announced this rally. I call myself
the English Whore because I teach English anytime, anywhere for
money. If you need to pay the sin tax on your syntax or you have an
urgent need to diagram your sentences, just call on me.
Being politically astute and semi-conscious of the world around you, you probably realize
there was a Presidential election in America last year or was it the year before?
– and nobody won. We have a new policy in American politics: politicians campaign for
years, raise lots of money from their fat-cat friends whom they will reward with lucrative
contracts for the newest weaponry or a more efficient method of polluting the environment,
and then they are appointed king – I mean, President.
Anyway, you probably recall that George Bush was appointed and anointed, and since
then he’s been bombing people, ignoring world opinions on global warming, Kyoto, and
‘unlawful combatants’ , and creating an axis of good, moral, upright warmongers. You
may also know that Al Gore lost and grew a beard to inspire people to think that he’s
thoughtful. What you may not know is that I, Dennis Bohr, the English Whore, also ran
for President. Well, ran is too strong a word. I ambled – sat for President.
I made a full disclosure of my past: I did not dodge the draft; I did not serve in Vietnam;
I do not have a rich daddy who was President; I did not invent the Internet; I never had
sex with anyone in the White House – though I may have had sex in a white house in
the past.
The primary reason for announcing my candidacy was to insure that I have steady,
gainful employment. And if elected – or appointed – I guarantee you that I will be employed.
Another major reason was that my number one choice ‘None of the above’ was
not on the ballot, so I’m legally changing my name to None of the Above for the next
election. Of course in North Carolina you have to register at birth to be on the ballot, but
since I was born in Kentucky where horses are enrolled in the Kentucky Derby when
they’re born, that should count.
The other choices weren’t exactly exciting. Al Gore’s only attribute was that he’s married
to Tipper who may have once had dinner with Frank Zappa. Bush thought he was
left the presidency in his father’s will – not remembering that his father is still alive. And
did he inhale, snort, drop, swallow, and/or guzzle in his college days? And if he didn’t
what the hell did he do – study? I admit I voted for Clinton once, but I thought I was voting
for George Clinton of the Funkadelics.
So I decided to throw my rings into the hat, my oars into the waves, my two cents into
the political bull ring. My campaign was low-key; so low-key as to be almost comatose. I
asked my campaign manager why it was so low-key, and she replied, ‘I’ve been busy.’
And so had I. I mean, it’s hard to run for President while fulfilling my English Whore duties.
I bet Bush and Gore didn’t have to grade papers while campaigning. Their only real
job was flying around the country, kissing their wives in public, and saying stupid things
– all of which qualified me for the job.
Since I was not allowed to debate on TV with the Big Money Boys, I decided to debate
myself in my own living room, using me as moderator.
However, despite my scintillating performance in the debate, I lost. I didn’t win any electoral
college votes – no matter how many recounts were done – and I didn’t receive any
popular votes. I thought I’d get at least a few (one waitress at the Bagelry said she’d vote
for me), and reliable sources have informed me that I didn’t vote for me either.
I suppose Tie-Gate was my major undoing. Is there anything more worthless than the
necktie – except politicians and lawyers? Ties cut off the circulation to the brain, making
it difficult for men to think for themselves. The only reason I can figure out that men wear
ties is so that they can remind people and themselves exactly where their penises are.
Anyway, some unscrupulous person released pictures of me wearing a tie, and voters
may have been turned off by my seeming hypocrisy, but I never said that I had not worn
ties. I once wore ties, but that was merely a ‘youthful indiscretion’.
Maybe people just wanted someone as dumb as they are – which should have qualified
me. It was mainly a choice between a know-it-all and a know-nothing, and if you have to
figure out which is which, well….
Perhaps it was my tendency to exaggerate and embellish that turned voters off. My
claim to have invented words may have been a bit of a stretch, but that’s what politicians,
writers, and English Whores do. I call it creative storytelling.
My campaign manager said, ‘You win some; you lose some; and some you get rained
out. They just wanted it more than we did. We’ll be back when the moon is ‘in the seventh
house and Jupiter aligns with Mars’.’ I think she’s swallowing too many decongestants
for her own good. But I’m not depressed. My English Whore duties are guaranteed
at least through May.
Now, I’ve been called an old, out-of-step, anti-war peacenik hippie, and I admit I couldn’t
have said it better. When it comes to Ben Laden and Saddam Hussein, I say we should
not retaliate; we should litigate. Let’s sic our lawyers on them. There are plenty to go
around. Sure, there may be some collateral damage but we all have to make sacrifices
in hard times.
What if we spent our war-machine money on teaching and feeding people? What if we
made the Pentagon have a bake sale when they need new weapons? What if we paid
attention to three of the greatest instruments of change – Gandhi, Martin Luther King,
Jr. and Jesus Christ – and turned the other cheek? What if we told our enemies, ‘You
are welcome to sit at our table’ as Starhawk says? What if after 2000 years of keeping
track, we resolved our differences with people in some way other than bombing them?
The Middle East, Rwanda, Bosnia, Northern Ireland – you name your conflict – all prime
examples that bombing solves nothing. Humans are supposedly the pinnacles of evolution.
What if we started using that organ that differentiate us from animals and stopped
thinking with our bombs?
And remember, in the next election vote for ‘None of the Above’.

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