And another thing, Herr Wagner. Don't you think a little dance music would have broken up the tension some? Really, there's nothing like watching Rhine Maidens doing a little underwater polka to lighten the mood, don't you think? Which brings up another question ... haven't you ever heard of "comic relief?"
"We're a month out on this election, Cope. One f***ing month! And what the hell are you doing about it?"
"Jeez, Bob. I told you? I'm writing a review of Der Ring Des Nibelungen. See, I've decided to frame it as an open discussion with the lingering vapors of Wagner's ethereal presence--which isn't as easy as it sounds, by the way--and here you are, butting into my concentration like a big old snoopy jackhammer."
"But that silly Wagner crap was last week."
"Well, it's this week, too, darnit. I have as much reason this week to want to shut out the political cacophony as I did last week. Jeez Louise! ... what more is there to say about either President Barack Obama or Mitt Romney? Everybody who hasn't been in a coma for the past year already knows who they're going to vote for. If somebody doesn't know by now what these two guys stand for, or how important this election is, or what they want for the future of this country, it can only mean he's had his brain pickled in pixie dust. Now, Bob, let me get this review done. You know, there are other things in life than politics.
So let me ask, Mr. Wagner, was it your intention for Siegfried to come off looking like such a dunce? Or did it just happen organically? And I don't get how Brunnhilde could have fallen in love with him. What? Was it all about the size of his sword? Or am I missing some ..."
"You already know what needs to be said."
"Remind me, Badger? What needs to be said?"
"That Mitt Romney is a douche."
"Gosh, Bob! Has it come to this? Have American politics become so superficial and nasty that name-calling is all we have left?"
"Don't be a baby, Cope. Politics have always had plenty of name-calling. Fact is, there is so much name-calling that an important truth gets covered up in the incessant noise, which is that now and then, the person being called a name actually is what he's being called. And Romney is a douche. You know what I mean--conceptually."
"No, not at all. What do you mean, 'conceptually?'"
"See, Romney's douchedom is the gooey center that oozes through all the contrived images he tries so hard--and so ineptly--to project. Savvy? There is nothing at his core, other than the pure essence of douche. Every attempt he makes to convince people there's a substantial, fully actualized, thoughtful and empathetic human being hidden away beneath that forced grin and gelled hair comes off as just more douchiness.
His criticism of Obama for sympathizing with the Muslim protesters ... douchy. His secret speech about the moocher 47 percent. More douchy. It all fits a pattern, don't you get it? Whether he's insisting that corporations are people, insulting the cookies some lady offered him, feigning interest in how tall the trees are ... he's like an onion. Layer upon layer upon yet another layer of undiluted douche. Remember this, Cope, Romney isn't a douche because he says the things he says and thinks the things he thinks. No, he says those things and thinks those things because he's a douche."
"Look Bob, if I absolutely have to call him a name, does it have to be 'douche?' That's so ... uh, it makes me think about things I don't want to think about. So how about 'weenie?' I see him as a graceless, charmless, stiff weenie screw-up who takes credit for the accomplishments of his underlings but doesn't really know hardly anything about anything. Or 'bully?' My wife thinks he's a bully."
"Oh, he's a bully all right. A born bully, from the time he chopped off another kid's hair while his prep-school pals held the kid down, to when he was that smarmy Bain CEO, vivisecting wounded companies and chopping off employees. And yeah, he's a weenie, too. After this campaign's over, we'll never again see him in another pair of Levi's, or shaking another coal miner's hand. But 'bully,' 'weenie,' 'screw-up' ... those are just separate fingers on the complete Romney. He's also a horse's ass, a liar and a phony, all components to a larger presence, get it? Blend those elements together in one personality, and what you have is a great onomatopoetic word that sounds like what he is."
"Yeah. Dewshshshsh. It's the sound he hears in his head every time he flushes a previous conviction to make room for a new version. Dewshshshsh."
"I know what you're saying, Badge ... I think. But the deal is, I have this review to finish. And by golly, I mean to finish it.
All right, Dick ... I sort of get what you were getting at with Siegfried. He was born to win the ring ... 'preened' to win the ring, you might say. But when all is said and done, that ring proved to be the end of Siegfried, have I got that right? And I have to think, what a puny mortal old Wotan chose to make his go-to guy. But I will say, I love that one song from Apocalypse Now. You know the one mean. It's got all the French horns and ... uh, say Bob, you don't have a name for me, do you? Something that encapsulates the essence of my inner authenticity?"
"Sure do, Cope. Got lots of names for you. Goofus ... Mortimer ... Chunkhead ... Twit ... Barney ... Blatherbutt ... Wasted Space ... Wimpy ... Blimpy ... Dippy ... Melvin ... Chump ... Clabbertrap ... Bilge-bottom ... Addle-ass ... Fatuous-fart ...