..........I was thinking the other day about Mitt Romney. You remember him—living tissue over cybernetic skeleton? The white robot Republicans trumped up as their candidate, spent months trying to dismantle and then finally went with anyway to try and oust President Obama? Yeah, that’s the guy.
Not the most timely of topics I know, but I hope you’ll indulge me just this once if I delve back to Election Night 2012. The poll results were in, the Rovian theft of Ohio thwarted, and Barack Obama voted into a second term in the U.S. Presidency: An office you’d have to be out of your mind to want.
I was thinking about this, and thinking about that stretch of time, after Obama pulled ahead, ahead and still further ahead to come out more than the 270 electoral votes needed for a decisive reelection, and about how there was this long pause after we all knew it was over before Mitt Romney conceded. There wouldn’t be a recount. We didn’t need to wait for Florida. Still, we all sat and waited for Mitt to take the stage, give his “I just got my ass handed to me” whathaveyou and disappear.
Why did we wait? Because, as he said earlier in the day, he only brought one speech with him to his campaign headquarters in Boston.
One speech. Now, presidential elections are not short on bullshit. Top to bottom, the rhetoric and the actions of these men and women running for office—from the primaries to the inauguration—are the finest puppetry money can buy. But Mitt Romney only having one speech ready has stuck with me, because the only reason for him to have one speech—a victory speech, to be delivered at the moment of his triumph in unseating America’s first African-American president—is if he really thought he was going to win.