President Al Sharpton: The First Few Days

As you can see, the progressive buildup to the Iowa caucus has thrown me off my usually sophisticated pop-culturally obsessed game, and gotten me all sexed up on politics. Blame Iowa! Bear with me, though, my little pomegranates, I will come out of this little poly-sci funk intact and, on the other side of the caucus, back in rare form. My fascination du jour, though, if you must know, is the Reverend Al Sharpton.

And why not: His campaign is quixotic, to be sure, but there is also quite a bit of pathos and some, well, humor in it.

Actually, there is lots of humor in his candidacy if you know how to look. Sharpton has come away -- post SNL -- as a sort of Falstaffian American character (charicature?), more perfectly suited to Comedy Central than the rigors of the campaign trail. Perhaps he might consider following Jon Stewart, or a late night show on VH1 opposite Charlie Rose?

But all this talk of pitching Al for Prime Time is premature. Although Sharpton couldn't win DC, what's to say he's going to flame out in his other hopeful state, South Carolina.

What if he were to win South Carolina by snagging the majority of black votes in a tight four way race. And: what if, say, conservatives vote for Al en masse in open primary states? And what if he won the Democratic nomination as a result of the votes of his loyalists plus those of conservative spoilers!

(oh dear, I can already feel my readership beginning to snooze at the sheer geekiness of this)

And then, what if -- just bear with me, now -- what if: Al went on to win the Presidency, buoyed by the drunken frat boy vote as well as merry pranksters across the country who want to see The Grand Old Party become, well, a par-tay. Isn't humor ultimately more attractive to the masses? I mean, would you really rather hang out with Jim Carrey and David Chapelle or Paul O'Neill and Pat Buchanan, hmm?

Highly implausible, you say to a Reverend President Al Sharpton. Well, I agree. But what if ... what if ... (dream sequence music trails off into ...)


January 20, 2005: A visibly distraught Chief Justice Rehnquist administers the oath of office to Reverend Al Sharpton, who becomes the 44th President of the United States. Immediately following the swearing in, Rehnquist has, simultaneously, a nervous breakdown and a stroke at the thought of an African American President.

At the inaugural ball, Rehnquist exhibits a spastic rigor in his dance ("his freaky stylee," would be inaugural invitee Coolio's take on the spectacle in the next day's Washington Post) that was generally taken to be a result of drunken revelry. Only later, after the last dance as Rehquist writhed on the floor, did attendees realize that The Ren had not actually been engaged in highly elaborate breakdancing maneuvers, but was, indeed, in a perilous plight. Sandra Day O'Connor would sum up the majority opinion in the New York Times by observing, solemnly, "all involved didn't know the seriousness of the matter. We believed that he had passed the bar ... about six or seven times too many."

James Brown performs "Hot Pants" instead of the traditional "hail to the Chief."

January 22, 2005: The Andrew Jacksonesque populist appoints Richard Simmons as Surgeon General and Chairman of the President's Council of Physical Fitness.

Immediately following, Simmons, The Reverend President and the Religious Right form a joint task force on fundamentalism and excercise called, Sweatin' to the Holies.

Instead of the partisan Republican Prayer Breakfasts, Democrats and Republicans seeking early morning face time with the President must excercise to gospel and Christian Contemporary hits while being prodded on by Surgeon General Simmons. The President notes: there will be no breaking of bread ... too many carbs ... we are all on Atkins, you know.

January 24, 2005: The Godfather of Soul is appointed Ambassador to the Holy See. "The Pope can no longer call us a nation turning it's back on its soul anymore," the President quips.

February 1, 2005: The President recieves a delegation of Hindi Ascetics, but after, rather pornographically, mispronouncing their religious title, the "fakirs," who have lived a life devoted to peace, abruptly exit the Oval Office in a swarm of obscenities and curses involving the President's mother.

February 2, 2005: Tina Brown officially begins sucking up to the new President.

Or something along those lines. How fun would a Reverend Al Presidency be?