Pick One

The remaining Democratic hopefuls were at it again.

I missed the Democratic Debate last night. I didn't forget, it's just that I had no idea it was going to take place since I never looked at the TV or the paper yesterday. I was doing something else: living my own life.

The whole political circus is just another reality TV show, much like that early one called Survivor that I never watched but certainly heard about, constantly. Since then a parade of similar shows have surfaced, like American Idol and Dancing With the Stars and America's Got Talent and So You Think You Can Dance and So You Can Walk While You're Talking and Talk While You're Walking, and today's popular Pick a Presidential Candidate, a.k.a. Who's On First? 

It's always the same plot: A group of hopefuls start out, and one by one they fall by the wayside. Still standing on Pick a Presidential Candidate are the pretty young gay boy with a husband, the earnest Obama look-alike who still lives in a bad neighborhood, the black, tough-talking, rhymes-with-witch who nobody likes, the rich Asian businessman promising to give you $1,000 a month if you elect him, the pasty-faced unknown billionaire, the old rabbinical Jew spewing fire and brimstone, and the former VP who looks like Death only with a facelift. And let's not forget the shrill-as-Hillary-Clinton clone and the smart, pretty one from Hawaii.

Who will rise to the top? Who will be kicked off the island? More importantly, who gives a  damn? Not me any longer. They're all the same, just wrapped up in different packages, kind of like shampoo or toilet bowl cleaner. One of them will win or lose to Trump next Election Day. Until then, it's all just theater. And bad theater at that.