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The Problem with America is Dan Quayle

By Baratunde R. Thurston

Last week former vice president Dan Quayle announced his candidacy for president of the United States.

While rifling through the trash at a Republican fundraiser where Quayle spoke this weekend I found receipts for gun shipments into East Los Angeles, blueprints for a Mega Disney in Rwanda and the trust of the American people.

(Funny thing is I found the same things at the Democratic fundraiser across the street. Hmm.)

The most interesting find, however, was the following speech which appears to be the draft Quayle wrote himself before his staff handed him the one he would give:

Hi, America. My name Dan Quayle. This is my position paper speech for president of the United States. My teacher told me if I submitted a position paper, that would be a good thing to do to be president.

I know what you're thinking: "Why is this guy running for president?" And I do have an answer to that question.

I'm on medication. Smart medication, that will make me smart. No more embarrassing speeches for Danny boy.

I solve problems. Last night, for example, I did this really hard word problem and didn't even use my fingers to add.

There are five basic problems plaguing this Great Nation. I will solve them all without using my fingers.

The second is taxes.

The middle class is shrinking. The underclass is growing. I read this on a poster once. It's very sad to me.

I even wrote a poem about it. Here goes: Roses are red/violets are blue/poverty sucks/free Mumia.

You middle classers are working harder for less money. You know why? I know why. What I don't know is why she swallowed the fly.

The reason, my friendly Americans, is taxes. No, not why she swallowed the fly, silly people.

Taxes are too high. I'm high! Just kidding of course. You think I'm dumb? Okay, bad question.

So I'm going to solve this problem by cutting the taxes cause they're too long anyway.

The first problem plaguing this Great Nation, my friendly Americans, is family.

There are too many mothers raising kids without the fathers. Those fathers are bad.

I will solve this problem by cutting the father's taxes.

This little light of mine. I'm going to let it shine.

The fourth problem plaguing this Great Nation, my friendly Americans, is the lack of respect for the Oval Office.

Bill Clinton has really messed up that office, let me tell you. Why is it an oval anyway? I bet that's part of the problem.

If you make me president, I'll make it a rhomboid office like offices should be.

The other problem, of course, is taxes. I will cut these taxes into itty bitty pieces, and there will be respect for the office again.

"I" before "E" except after "C."

The third problem plaguing this Great Nation, my friendly Americans, is our military.

It's too short after the Democrats cut it. I say cut taxes, not the military.

Feel free to applaud at any time.

I've been in the White House before while military decisions are made. George Bush even made me a special doggy door.

Man, those were the days. Colin Powell was the coolest. I used to shine his shoes during the briefings.

Then Bill Clinton had to make the office oval. Jerk.

A peach, a plum, a stick of chewing gum. Don't like it, don't chew it, and this means you.

Look at it like this: if our military were longer we could beat up Slobodan Milosevic. We can't even beat up a guy named Slobodan Milosevic.

In high school, there was this kid Slobodan. We called him Stinky Slobber Dan for short. God, I hated that kid.

I used to just punch him for so much fun.

No wait, that was me. I was Stinky Slobber Dan. Damn those pills.

The topic of high school brings us to the fifth problem plaguing this Great Nation my friendly Americans.

That problem is education. Schools have fuzzy math and creative spelling. I wish they had creative spelling when I was small, but I'm big now, and I hate education.

Look what it did to me. I can't spell! Damn you education!!! I'll cut your taxes off!

So, vote for me. I've even got three lies about me like John Harvard.

First, my name isn't Dan. It's James Danforth Quayle. I like people to call me Dan, like Lieutenant Dan in "Forest Gump." Forest Gump is my hero.

Besides, in Congress all the pages called me Lame James and kicked me.

Second, I'm not smart. I'm stoopid.

Third, I'm not smart, I'm stewpit.

So to recap. I will make a good president because I'll cut the long taxes and redesign the oval office and punch Slobber Dan square in the nuts and stop education.

Thanks for not spitting on me. Baratunde R. Thurston `99 is a philosophy concentrator in Lowell House. His column appears on alternate Tuesdays.

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