It’s my honor and privilege to endorse Mitt Romney
It’s my honor and privilege.
It’s my honor.
It’s my privilege.
It looks like English.
It sounds like English.
It’s my honor and my privilege. It’s my political party and I can endorse Mitt Romney if I want to.
And if you read that sentence without attribution or context you might think that it actually was English and accidentally take it at face value, as such:
It is indeed my honor and privilege to endorse this fine fellow, Mitt Romney, whom I admire most highly and who I think will make a most excellent Grand Panjandrum of our humble democracy. He is a right dandy gentleman and I heartily enjoy his dashing good looks and the robust earthy aroma of his manly flatulence. I would most happily award him my daughter’s trust fund and virginity and raise the resulting progeny as my own flesh and heir. He is a good egg. I love him the way a 13 year old girl loves Justin Beiber and unicorns, but in a totally non-gay manly sports analogy fashion.
And if you thought that, Gentle Reader, well, you’d be oh so very wrong.
See, that phrase, it is my honor and privilege, was uttered by none other than the insatiable attention-absorbing ShamWow! of American politics, former faux presidential candidate, Donald Trump (seriously, Colbert’s campaign for president is more legit).
Context, my pixilated electronic friends, is everything.
See, The Donald was speaking not English, rather he was speaking in the Orwellian forked-tongue patois of election year politics. The fact he’s sporting Phyllis Diller’s haircut and channeling infomercial creeper, Vince Offer, should have been your first clue.
What the wispy Cowlick King actually said was:
I cannot believe that I’m doing this. I can’t even look at you, Romney, you with your Donny Osmond hair and your smug grin. God how I hate you, you filthy cult-loving bastard, I’m way richer than you and I’ve slathered on so much illegal Mexican Rogaine that I’m growing tits, but I still can’t get hair like that. You come anywhere near my daughter, you flatulent prick, and I’ll have you buried in the foundation of Trump Tower and covered in fifteen feet of concrete. Mitt, what the hell kind of name is that? Fuck you, Mitt. Well, anyway, here’s a check for your SuperPAC and I’ll drop you a list of legislation that I’ll be expecting your administration to approve.
It’s important to understand that politicians use words that sound like English (or ‘Merican! if you’re reading this in Texas) but really mean something entirely different from the standard Webster’s definition.
Confused? Of course you are. Here, let me give you an example: the phrase “man of the People” is often assumed to mean “somebody like us” or perhaps “just an average Joe.” This is incorrect. In fact this phrase actually means “his net worth is not less than $200 Million, most of which is parked in off-shore tax-sheltered accounts.”
I know, I know, it’s difficult to understand. Don’t despair.
Using the previous example, the trick is to examine the second syllable of the first word, stressors on the vowel indicate… What? It’s politics, of course there are two syllables. The second syllable is unspoken. It’s invisible. See, you have to read between the ... oh, now, stop that. Here, breath into this paper bag. No, no, that’s ok, the barf bags are complimentary. In fact, take two, it’s going to be a long road to November.
Tell you what, never mind the technical gibberish. I’ll make it simple for you, Gentle Reader. As a public service, Stonekettle Station’s crack cadre of highly trained political analysts are here to get you through election season – and by “crack cadre” I mean me and Mr. George Killian, with occasional assistance from our panel of studio experts, Mr. Bushmills on the Evangelical Protestant candidates and by Mr. Jameson when it comes to the Catholics – and Ms Bubbly Pink Champagne, should we find it necessary to discuss Rick Santorum. Since Rick Perry
dropped out suspended his campaign (see what I did there? You’re learning) we can dispense with Senor Tequila.
Now, forget about vowels and invisible syllables and help yourself to a cold one and the appropriate Irish – depending on your denomination, Catholics help the Protestants with the booze – and before you know it you’ll be speaking fluent politician. Stick with me and you’ll be all over this election year stuff like a Japanese businessman on a teenage girl in a sailor suit – though you may have a headache and hate yourself in the morning, nothing a handful of Vitamin B and a Bloody Mary won’t fix (speaking of which, be careful with those, you don’t want to end up babbling incoherent Bachmann and burping up celery scented vodka).
Remember, folks, the words only look like English:
Let’s start with an easy one: We The People: You’ve been hearing this a lot lately. Weedapeeble this, weedapeeble that, usually followed by some unintelligible gibberish, spitting, cuss words, and punctuated with “Constitution! Constitution!” and some waving of loaded firearms. “We the People” almost sounds like it means, well, us. All of us. Together. Black and white, liberal and conservative, gay and straight. Us. We. People. It means nothing of the sort, especially when voiced by a true American patriot in a pointy Ben Franklin hat waving a little Chinese made American flag. What “We The People” actually means is: Get out, get the hell out, just get right the hell out of America! Which is, of course, what the Founding Fathers really meant when they wrote the US Constitution. It’s totally true, it’s called the Allen West clause.
Which, of course, takes us to our next phrase, namely Get The Hell Out: Think it means get the hell out? Wrong. It only sounds that way. I know, I know, but it’s ok if you’re confused. Hell, even politicians sometimes get confused when they use this phrase. And they’re professionals.
Congressman Allen West (R-Fl): “We need to let President Obama, Harry Reid, Nancy Pelosi, and my dear friend chairman of the Democratic National Committee, we need to let them know that Florida ain’t on the table. Take your message of equality of achievement, take your message of economic dependency, take your message of enslaving the entrepreneurial will and spirit of the American people somewhere else and get the hell out of the United States of America!”
CNN’s Soledad O’Brien: “I don’t get it. I mean, I don’t understand what you’re saying, you’re telling Obama and Harry Reid and Nancy Pelosi to get out of the United States?”
Congressman Allen West: “No, Soledad. Soledad, absolutely not. And you know that. No, I truly, no joke, I’m not being facetious. I don’t get what you’re saying.”
(The word you’re looking for here is Faceplam, which means exactly what you think it means, i.e. Lt Colonel douchebag. Bonus points if you know what West meant when he said “my good friend.”)
Speaking of getting the hell out, next up is Self Deportation, which sounds a lot like what Rick Perry did when he self-deported himself back to Texas once it became clear that Jesus was just fucking with him, but in reality means an act of chronic self-gratification that will eventually cause Mitt Romney to go blind.
Misspoke: You hear politicians use this word typically a day or so after they made a comment regarding either tacos or poor people. Misspoke sounds like a politician is admitting that he was wrong and he’s sorry. Sort of. What it actually means is: I’m sorry you heard me wrong.
None of this would be a problem if it wasn’t for the Liberal Media, which, of course, is code for “Damnit! I didn’t know that bitch was going to ask me what I read!” Also, “What the hell do you mean somebody recorded it and put it on YouTube? They can do that? Dear God! Tell them I misspoke!”
Family Values: I value my family, all three of them. Plus the maid. And my rentboy. And, uh, damn that liberal media! Damn them.
Obama: See Hitler.
Hitler: See Obama.
Flip Flop: What the other guy does. Me? My position on the issues “matured” (I was going to say “evolved” but I didn’t want to have to come back here tomorrow and admit that I misspoke).
Establish A Moon Colony: Think “Jumped the shark” or “Nuked the Fridge.” Use this in place of either phrase in casual conversation and dazzle your friends with your political hipness.
Then casually mention how you changed your Facebook Philosophy to “Stonekettle Station.”
You’ll be so politically savvy that Donald Trump will be endorsing you next.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I ate a big dinner and I have to go send another politician to Washington, if you know what I mean.