Make Me Do Right, America

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Humility washes over me like the first proper shower a soldier feels after returning from years of sand and death in the desert. Maybe it's the fifth of scotch that's been my only companion these past few hours, or maybe it's because I just spent an entire day trying to get politicians from Israel and Palestine to behave like adults in a civil society and not like combatants in a civil war. Whatever motivates the feeling, I can't escape a sense that an incredible responsibility hangs over me and that I'm not entirely capable of handling it on my own. America, if you've got a soul, use it to listen to me tonight and remember, if only in thin whispers, to hold me to the moral weight I have to lift.



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Freaking Stem Cells

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Stem cells. If anyone ever wants to know what compelled me to run for any national elected office, be it the Senate or the White House, that's my answer. Stem cells. A lot of folks noticed that one of the first things I did when I got into office was to lift Bush's ridiculous ban on stem cell research. I had every intention of continuing to relax the laws prohibiting further research once all the other hot-button issues settled down. That was a rookie mistake, I guess. When you're President, things never settle down. One issue gets immediately replaced by another and nobody ever gives you any slack. Before you know it some jerk federal judge sneaks up on you and kicks you right in the scientific progress initiative.



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Clearing Up The Misconceptions

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traditional Kaabuist robestraditional Kaabuist robesEver since I ran for President, a lot of false rumors and misconceptions about me and my family have floated around the water coolers, media outlets and surveys of America. There are a stunning number of people who believe things about me that just aren't true. Well, I've tried to dedicate my presidency to discontinuing the policy of secrets and dishonesty held by the last administration. It's my duty as an elected official to come clean about everything people have asked about me, from the most valid to the most unfounded. Here are my definitive answers, once and for all.



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Ben Quayle Is A Brat

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I'm not fazed by people calling me the worst President in history. Every President gets called that by at least one person and unless we've been getting progressively worse since Washington, it's just not true. It also helps to remember who it is that's slinging the insult. I'm not angry at Ben Quayle for outright calling me the worst President in history. The poor kid has had to grow up being the son of the 20th century's biggest milquetoast. Seriously, how horrible must it be to be Dan Quayle's offspring? Every time that kid eats a potato he must die a little. That kind of thing wears on a man's soul, making him willing to hurt people just to get a little pride back. Still, I feel compelled to defend myself. Let's compare and contrast the most notoriously awful Presidents with my own, admittedly not-over term.



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Presidential Birthday Bash

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A lot of people asked me why Michelle would go on vacation to Europe over my birthday. They all said they thought it was selfish and unthoughtful of her. Well, as for why I let it happen without putting up a fight... Presidential Birthday Extravaganza. Nobody knows about this except for a few living souls but it may just be the best part about being the President. Deep within the Constitution, on a page we only ever show to Presidents, there's a clause that says the President can do whatever the hell he wants on his birthday. I mean anything. The law protects sitting Presidents from prosecution no matter what they do during the 24-hour period of their birthdays and will automatically classify any accusations against him for things he did during that period as slander. That means for four days, maybe eight, out of my entire life I am untouchable. Last year I was pretty modest about it. All I did was drive a tank down the highway and crush every Smart Car I saw, even waiting for the people inside to escape. But this year I went all-out.



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Horrors of "The View"

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I've faced some terrifying things in my lifetime. I've stood in front of hundreds of thousands of people who expected me to impress them. I've spoken to every person in the entire world at the same time. I've seen a viscous poison eat away at my nation's waters and I've seen a whole country turned into a stone age hell after a single, catastrophic earthquake. My presidency has not been an easy one but I've soldiered forth. I am not ashamed to say that the only moment I ever considered running from my responsibilities was earlier today, surrounded by the nightmarish banshees who run ABC's daytime talk show The View.



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Vacation Plans Ruined Again

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That's right, chuckles. Soak it in.That's right, chuckles. Soak it in.I can't even begin to express how frustrating and disappointing it is to have to vacation on the Gulf coast. Again. It's at times like these that I think this whole "public servant" thing was a bad idea. To think, I could have been a top-tier lawyer or and fancy pants lecturer at Harvard or something. Instead I decided to become a community organizer and follow that candy trail all the way to the White House where I can't even travel where I want to on my time off. It is so not fair that I'm always on the clock. Even my private life, my leisure, has become one extended PR display.



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Wall Street Just Became My House

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Boo-ya. Wall Street Reform Bill in the hizzy. Looks like the Congress finally got its act together on this one. Well, mostly together. I swear, we've been working on this one for, what, a year now? It seems to me that it shouldn't have taken so long to write a law that says jerks shouldn't be allowed to be jerks with money. But what do I know about politics? I'm just the freaking President of a little country called the United States of America. I'm just an amateur.



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Sorry, Arizona. You Don't Get To Be Racist

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Back at Columbia University there was this guy everyone called Rover. His real name was Terry but if you ever called him that he'd start barking and try to bite you. In other words, a real prick. Well, Terry... I mean "Rover", didn't care who he had to piss off to get the things he wanted. He'd threaten to start a fist fight if the boys got a keg of beer he didn't like or he'd toss water balloons at the girls who wouldn't go out with him. Every day it was something new with Rover and it was never funny. After a solid year of his nonsense I finally decided to stand up to him. My cousin sent me a box of awesome cigars for Christmas and I wasn't about to share them with just anyone. I handed a few out to my closest friends and one to a professor I wanted to impress. Of course, Rover wanted one, not that he even smoked cigars, but that was irrelevant. I put my foot down on that one and Rover just flipped. He started pushing me, calling me some pretty nasty names and even snapping at me with those ugly teeth of his. No matter what happened I held my ground and kept telling him "no". That dumbass didn't get one solitary speck of tobacco from me. So, yeah, I'm not gonna back down on this Arizona issue, either.



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Spies?

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Spies? Seriously, spies? Dubya-tee-eff, Russia? I thought we were getting along so well, too. The Cold War ended twenty years ago, your president is a life-long believer in democracy, we had that cool pow-wow about nuclear non-proliferation. I mean, what happened? Was it something I said? I was under the impression that we had moved beyond that period in our relationship. Well, apparently one of us has a little bit of growing up to do.



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