Presidential Death Match 2000

NOTICE: This article contains scenes that may not be suitable for mature humans. Discretion is advised. However, it also contains reviews of current productions, like Fistful of Moolah, starring George W. Bush; Millennium Man, with Al Gore; and Mission Improbable, an indy party road movie. Plus, a preview of what could be the next blockbuster political/action hit.

After Zippergate and the Starr Report, could politics get any more warped? You wouldn't have thought so. After all, in little more than a decade, we'd gone from arms for hostages, covert war in Latin America, and prime time bombings in Iraq to the wall-to-wall circus that placed the president's penis in the center ring for a constitutional trapeze act. But then the corporate pimps, media sycophants, and political fixers who convinced voters to put a B-grade actor, a drugged-up Yalie, and a world-class narcissist (you know who they are) in charge of the world's only superpower came up with a blockbuster not even DreamWorks could have packaged.

Yes, it's a title bout for the new millennium. Presidential Death Match 2000. You don't need a ticket to get a seat for this $2 billion fatal distraction. But there's no way out until the last pundit sings.

When he retired from the US Senate, that great white hoopster Bill Bradley, who offered up his "authentic inner core" early in the presidential race, said "politics is broken." But it's worse than that. If George "Dubya" Bush and Al Gore are any indication, it's become a rite of succession that makes the presidency look more and more like an inherited crown.

Deep Pockets, Demagogues, and the Democrat's Big Sleep

The two crucial traits that apparently endear Dubya to GOP stalwarts are his fundraising prowess and family pedigree. It's certainly not his IQ or way with words. Sure, he's also a governor -- in a state where the job is as taxing as hosting a celebrity golf tournament. Mainly, he's taken credit for reforms that were already in the legislative pipeline. But then again, Texas does rank first in executions, proving at least that the younger Bush has the killer instinct essential for any "compassionate conservative." And he was the brains behind Texas' "war on sex," a proposal with a $9 million price tag to "encourage young people to save sex for marriage."

Despite his rocky start, nagging questions about basic brain power, and an unexpected challenge by John McCain, power-starved Republicans have rallied the stalwarts and suppressed their doubts. Clearly, they'd rather back a born-again frat boy with a fat bankroll than face the reality that their rescuer has the moral compass of a turkey buzzard.

Meanwhile, the Democrats barely stayed awake long enough to see whether their incumbent vice president, who supposedly had the nomination wired before the race began, could stave off a half-hearted challenge from the politician formerly known as Senator Sominex. Pundits called the Gore-Bradley contest a legitimate horse race, but it was more like watching pelicans mate in slow motion.

Even when these two raised "serious" issues, the goal was to talk tough while taking as few risks as possible. How else could you explain Gore's lame attempt to turn his concern about sprawl into a bold departure? Then came Elian Gonzales, the boat boy whose saga took on the qualities of a Nativity scene in Little Miami. Gore changed his tune faster than you can say 25 electoral votes. And I hate to disillusion people who thought Bradley was actually fighting for universal health coverage, but subsidies for the poor and tax breaks for the middle class -- two major chunks of his "big idea" -- wouldn't have fixed the mess created by HMOs and insurance company bean counters.

So, forget the issues. The real question was whether Bradley's awkward warmth and celebrity status could overcome Gore's effective exploitation of patronage and federal pork to win early support from elected officials and party hacks. It was an image battle in which both contestants badly needed a personality transplant. The outcome surprised no one: nagging predictability defeated high-minded tedium.