Super What?
How can the average person identify who the Super Delegates are at the DNC convention?
a. They all will be wearing large flashing badges imprinted with a rhinestone S similiar to the Superman logo.
b. They will be escorted at all times by a scantily clad young lady carrying a very large crystal bowl that reads: Tips Appreciated
c. By the look like Secret Service agents surrounding and providing them with personal security.
d. Anyone that Geraldo interviews, will be a Super Delegate, anyone.
My new interest in politics is driven by the similarities between Wall Street and the Democratic National Committee. It all began when I heard about close-hold covert operations, not unlike the military’s special operation command, that are an integral part of both the DNC and Wall Street.
I bought a copy of the WSJ, (just love acronyms) and searched the business opportunities section and found exactly what I needed. A highlighted classified ad that read: Internship Opportunities with the DNC: With the 2008 Presidential Election ahead, the DNC is an exciting and busy place. This enriching experience in politics is an opportunity to get an insider’s view of the Democratic Party and to make valuable life-long connections.
What really caught my attention was the phrase “valuable life-long connections.” My whole life I wanted to belong to some organization that had valuable life-long connections. Sure I tried the Salvation Army, The John Birch Society, The Culinary Union and Alcoholic Anonymous but they all sort of fizzled out or just became plain boring and not to my liking.
I sent a letter of inquiry to the address indicated and within three days I received a Fed-Ex envelope or should I say package. In it was an application and booklets that were over an inch thick.
The first document was a request for my personal financial statement. I left it blank because all I had was my veteran’s disability pension and that hardly covered the cost of my subscription to the WSJ. They also wanted my D&B Report and credit rating. I didn’t know who D&B was so I left that section blank. I sent the info back, along with a small check to cover research expenses. I took that money from my pet’s food allowance. Next was a release of my rights under the Freedom of Information Act. That worried me a bit but what the hell, I’m sure being a “one for all and all for one” kinda organization they “could forgive and forget” some indiscretions in my past. And again, I had to send a check to pay for the inquiry they had to submit to the FIA agency. That money came from my food allowance.
Then there was also a confidentially statement which they wanted me to sign before I moved on to the next level. Oh yeah, I had to send a small sum to cover the printing and postage. So I opted to cancel my WSJ subscription and used that money to cover this cost.
Lastly, they wanted my insights and opinions on what would make the DNC reach its goals of global leadership. I didn’t have any except I wanted to live my remaining years in luxury, or at least a small dwelling. But I had to send something, so I enclosed an old CD of Bob Dylan’s Highway 61 Re-visited. And yes another pittance to cover expenses and editing of my statement. I wondered if they could get in trouble if they edited Bob Dylan’s songs.
The last thing I had to do was read the several dozen pamphlets they sent to start my career in the DNC. Information on becoming a political pundit would be forthcoming in another packet. And yes another check which came out of my beer money. That one hurt, but I figured what the hell, it’ll pay off big time for me and I certainly could sacrifice for a little while.
So off everything went and as I left the post office I began to play a game of “what if” and before I got back to my bunk under the bridge I saw myself becoming a “super delegate.”
It took two weeks to get a reply and all that was in the envelope was a short note along with my checks. They were all marked Account Closed 2002.
Clay
a. They all will be wearing large flashing badges imprinted with a rhinestone S similiar to the Superman logo.
b. They will be escorted at all times by a scantily clad young lady carrying a very large crystal bowl that reads: Tips Appreciated
c. By the look like Secret Service agents surrounding and providing them with personal security.
d. Anyone that Geraldo interviews, will be a Super Delegate, anyone.
My new interest in politics is driven by the similarities between Wall Street and the Democratic National Committee. It all began when I heard about close-hold covert operations, not unlike the military’s special operation command, that are an integral part of both the DNC and Wall Street.
I bought a copy of the WSJ, (just love acronyms) and searched the business opportunities section and found exactly what I needed. A highlighted classified ad that read: Internship Opportunities with the DNC: With the 2008 Presidential Election ahead, the DNC is an exciting and busy place. This enriching experience in politics is an opportunity to get an insider’s view of the Democratic Party and to make valuable life-long connections.
What really caught my attention was the phrase “valuable life-long connections.” My whole life I wanted to belong to some organization that had valuable life-long connections. Sure I tried the Salvation Army, The John Birch Society, The Culinary Union and Alcoholic Anonymous but they all sort of fizzled out or just became plain boring and not to my liking.
I sent a letter of inquiry to the address indicated and within three days I received a Fed-Ex envelope or should I say package. In it was an application and booklets that were over an inch thick.
The first document was a request for my personal financial statement. I left it blank because all I had was my veteran’s disability pension and that hardly covered the cost of my subscription to the WSJ. They also wanted my D&B Report and credit rating. I didn’t know who D&B was so I left that section blank. I sent the info back, along with a small check to cover research expenses. I took that money from my pet’s food allowance. Next was a release of my rights under the Freedom of Information Act. That worried me a bit but what the hell, I’m sure being a “one for all and all for one” kinda organization they “could forgive and forget” some indiscretions in my past. And again, I had to send a check to pay for the inquiry they had to submit to the FIA agency. That money came from my food allowance.
Then there was also a confidentially statement which they wanted me to sign before I moved on to the next level. Oh yeah, I had to send a small sum to cover the printing and postage. So I opted to cancel my WSJ subscription and used that money to cover this cost.
Lastly, they wanted my insights and opinions on what would make the DNC reach its goals of global leadership. I didn’t have any except I wanted to live my remaining years in luxury, or at least a small dwelling. But I had to send something, so I enclosed an old CD of Bob Dylan’s Highway 61 Re-visited. And yes another pittance to cover expenses and editing of my statement. I wondered if they could get in trouble if they edited Bob Dylan’s songs.
The last thing I had to do was read the several dozen pamphlets they sent to start my career in the DNC. Information on becoming a political pundit would be forthcoming in another packet. And yes another check which came out of my beer money. That one hurt, but I figured what the hell, it’ll pay off big time for me and I certainly could sacrifice for a little while.
So off everything went and as I left the post office I began to play a game of “what if” and before I got back to my bunk under the bridge I saw myself becoming a “super delegate.”
It took two weeks to get a reply and all that was in the envelope was a short note along with my checks. They were all marked Account Closed 2002.
Clay
posted by Iris and Clay at
6:18 AM
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