VOTING FOR THE IDIOT SHOWDOWN HAS CLOSED. THE WINNER IS RICK PERRY. CONGRATULATIONS, YOU IDIOT.
FIRST OF ALL, let's get something straight-what is in an idiot? We all are. Everyone. In life we all go to great lengths to extend ourselves beyond our limits, and this is how we learn and grow, but this is also how we get caught out looking like dicks. Sometimes things don't even have to be that far away to be beyond our reach. If you've ever been holding a stack of folders filled with loose paper and a mug full of coffee while trying to 3-hole punch a TPS report and you refuse to set anything down on the nearby table because "this will just take a second"—you are an idiot. If you've ever driven an manual transmission through traffic with a whole banana cream pie on your lap while you scoop at it with a fork in one hand, shift with your other hand, work the clutch with one leg, and steer with the other knee— you are an idiot. You see, it doesn't take much to be an idiot and life certainly presents enough opportunities, which we are happy to oblige. Even though it is undoubtedly easier for some, being an idiot is natural for all.
As a species we continually alternate through states of genius and idiocy, but these are really just branches of the same tree. We reach beyond our grasp, we push the limits, and when we succeed we are geniuses; when we reach too far and blunder face first into the concrete wall of our limits, we end up as the idiot. Yes, that next line that will make our rap go off the hook is simply one line too many and the logic that will justify our seemingly irrational beliefs slips so easily between our fingers. When we painfully and publicly stumble over the hurdles of our own limits, there is only one thing left to do: stare bewildered into the camera of life and blurt out, “I’m the best mayne, I deed it!” Then pause, stuttering to cover or staring blankly until the awkwardness is too painful and life has to look away. In that moment, you really deed it, mayne.
So, embrace your inner idiot, because, you know what? You’re stuck with it.
FIRST OF ALL, let's get something straight-what is in an idiot? We all are. Everyone. In life we all go to great lengths to extend ourselves beyond our limits, and this is how we learn and grow, but this is also how we get caught out looking like dicks. Sometimes things don't even have to be that far away to be beyond our reach. If you've ever been holding a stack of folders filled with loose paper and a mug full of coffee while trying to 3-hole punch a TPS report and you refuse to set anything down on the nearby table because "this will just take a second"—you are an idiot. If you've ever driven an manual transmission through traffic with a whole banana cream pie on your lap while you scoop at it with a fork in one hand, shift with your other hand, work the clutch with one leg, and steer with the other knee— you are an idiot. You see, it doesn't take much to be an idiot and life certainly presents enough opportunities, which we are happy to oblige. Even though it is undoubtedly easier for some, being an idiot is natural for all.
As a species we continually alternate through states of genius and idiocy, but these are really just branches of the same tree. We reach beyond our grasp, we push the limits, and when we succeed we are geniuses; when we reach too far and blunder face first into the concrete wall of our limits, we end up as the idiot. Yes, that next line that will make our rap go off the hook is simply one line too many and the logic that will justify our seemingly irrational beliefs slips so easily between our fingers. When we painfully and publicly stumble over the hurdles of our own limits, there is only one thing left to do: stare bewildered into the camera of life and blurt out, “I’m the best mayne, I deed it!” Then pause, stuttering to cover or staring blankly until the awkwardness is too painful and life has to look away. In that moment, you really deed it, mayne.
So, embrace your inner idiot, because, you know what? You’re stuck with it.
THE SHOWDOWN
I love idiots, all kinds, and, believe me, we can smell our own kind. With so many idiots to choose from we must undertake the unenviable task of finding the best and brightest idiot star amongst the idiot galaxies.
I love idiots, all kinds, and, believe me, we can smell our own kind. With so many idiots to choose from we must undertake the unenviable task of finding the best and brightest idiot star amongst the idiot galaxies.
Fighting out of the red corner, we have the governor of Texas, a handsome gentleman with the mind of a child and the arsenal of a man. Don't bother with a condom because it's Rick Perry!
Fighting out of the blue corner, we have some bewildered, impossibly incoherent rapper making his debut on public access cable. Check your dental because here comes Eli Porter!
The criteria for deciding this epic battle is your own, devise and algorithm, read some tea leaves, spin the bottle, or whatever it takes. No matter who wins or loses, we all win . . . and lose. Truly, if there was ever something that mattered less, it couldn't possibly exist.
Did I stutter? No? Well, someone will. Let the painful awkwardness begin!
"Abstinance worked for me . . . uh . . . I'm the best mayne... I deed it"
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