I feel your pain. Eight years ago I also won the popular vote in a hotly contested election, yet lost the delegate vote and ended up losing the ultimate contest. Amidst complaints of fraud and other electoral dirty tricks, I fought an ultimately losing battle against a hostile court system that was always stacked in favor of the establishment.
During that difficult period, I remember well all of the aid and comfort that you and Bill gave to me. That is why it I felt it necessary to reach out to you after your own difficult ordeal in the Nevada caucus. It is clear to me that you, too, have felt the sting of winning the battle yet losing the war.
I know you are vowing to fight on, but with Hollywood magnates deserting, the media turning against you, and Bill once more a millstone about your neck, you must realize that ultimately the end is near. Whether you fall to Obama, or McCain, or that religious nut Romelberry, your hope to be president will never be realized.
So to ease the bitter tang of failure from your tongue, I want to share with you some guidance that has always comforted me:
“Nobody ever went broke underestimating the American public.”
Given the state of education today, and the attention span of both children and adults now running barely 90 seconds, I remind you that scientific misrepresentation is a growth field of limitless potential. While I have cornered the market on climate change, there are plenty of scientific debates out there for you to polemicize and make your own.
I know you have a fondness for health care. Why not combine this with scare-mongering on vaccinations, blaming them on everything from autism to ADHD? How do we know that vaccines don’t cause Bigfootitis? The fact is we don’t, but we really ought to force vaccine manufacturers to pay onerous taxes in order to be sure that the world isn’t flooded with angry Bigfeet. It’s for the children’s sake, of course.
I think you see what I mean. The possibilities are endless, from genetically-modified foods to the causal link between Velcro and alcoholism.
So this Fall, after you’ve cried out your loss and kicked Bill out of your life, why don’t you bring your private jet out to see me at my private eco-fortress in Molokai? We can sit by the refrigerated pool, eat an authentic Philadelphia hoagie, drink French wine, and Tipper and I can explain how a future in data obfuscation works.