Howlin' Howie bob's Southern Strategy

By Don Adams © 2004

Good morning homo sapiens of varying skin tones, religious beliefs (or not), genders, and degrees of screaming liberalism. Welcome to the first briefing session of the new Howard Bob Dean DNC Southern Strategy Planning Brain Trust. After extensive research and discussion with the more ill-informed and power-hungry members of the party I ruled that I should serve as Imperial Leader and Sole Member of the Trust. My decision was unanimous. We need direction and I have the compass.

As my newly-appointed media advisor and fact checker Dan Bob “I’ve been a dumb-ass all my life” Rather succinctly explained it “We don’t know whether to wind our watches or to bark at the moon.” After that little incident during the primaries I’m sticking to watch winding.

I tried to enlist James Bob Carville as my Southern Strategy Advisor but he refused to work for less than the federal minimum wage. Paul Bob Begala was willing to help but the problem is that not only is he Paul Bob Begala, but despite somehow getting his hands on a law degree from the University of Texas, he was born in New Jersey.

As an alternative, I read a couple of Tennessee Bob Williams plays, slogged through part of a William Bob Faulkner bloviation, watched several week-ends of NASCAR action, tuned in to FOX News several times, went to a Monster Truck event, and rented some movies based on Pat Bob Conroy and John Bob Grisham novels to help me better understand the South.

I also checked out a few of faux-Texan Molly Bob “I can’t believe she lost to that idiot” Ivins’s columns and talked with one-term Texas Governor Ann Bob “I can’t believe I lost to that idiot” Richards to get some firsthand information on how to beat the Republicans. It turns out that they don’t know.

One of Bill Bob Clinton’s Hollywood pals loaned me a copy of Birth of a Nation but the sound was defective and I couldn’t get the color adjusted so I gave up on it. When my schedule allows I’ll do additional research at Deep South college football and basketball games and a Tractor Pull or two. I’ll also read the Ten Suggestions if I get a chance.

The wife, Dr. Judith Bob Steinberg, says that unlike Teresa Bob “Really Rich John wouldn’t have lost to that idiot” Heinz-Kerry and Big Momma Ice, the chameleon formerly know as Hillary Bob, she’ll bake a pie or two for judging at county fairs if it looks like we need additional empathy at any point. Or, as several of you have pointed out, she might stand a better chance of winning the corn on the cob eating competition.

For her contribution to this initiative Teresa Bob did offer to try to deliver our message in quasi-French to the Cajun-American pirogue polers in Louisiana, and to “suck the head” if encouraged to do so.

Her consort, John Bob “I can’t believe I lost to that idiot” Kerry believes that we Democrats can win the presidency without carrying a single state of that region. John Bob Kerry also lost the last election while holding fast to that belief. As Dan Bob says, “Don’t bet the double-wide on it.”

I don’t think we can since we can’t even win in our previous strongholds. We do need to win somewhere so I’ve devised a plan of action that will guarantee victory in the South for Big Momma Ice in the next general election. As Dan Bob says “She’ll run through Dixie like a tornado through a trailer park.”

First, every Democrat who serves as a Party shill or holds any elective or appointed office anywhere in the country will immediately change his middle name to Bob. This will endear us all to the Southern voter by demonstrating to him/her/indefinite that we respect the culture. There are a few exceptions to this rule. Although he’s unelected and unelectable Michael Moore will be known simply as “Stinky.” Dennis Kucinich will answer to “Opie”, and Hillary of course will be marketed as “Big Momma Ice.”

Minority voters won’t care about names as long as the federal giveaways continue. We’ll just keep up our successful program of promises of more welfare benefits. And we need to budget in the cost of the free cigarettes and pints of T-bird or 40 ouncers after each bumbling attempt by our loyal supporters to poke a Democrat chad out of a ballot.

In regard to Florida voters we’re working on legislation that will allow us to accompany those feebs into the voting booth to assist with the complicated process of shoving a pointed object though a piece of paper. Those missing links make Bush look like a damn Pulitzer Prize winner. Dan Bob says those nitwits would “give an aspirin a headache”, but with their bumbling assistance we’ll overcome the Republicans and “beat them like a rented mule.”

It’s time to unite in our effort to reclaim the South. Those who live down there must hereafter forego a run for national office. Obviously some of those plow pilots are smarter than we give them credit for because they refuse to turn over the keys to the White House to one of their own. Al Bob “I can’t believe I lost to that idiot” Gore, Bill Bob Clinton, and John Bob “I can’t believe we lost to that idiot” Edwards proved that thesis beyond a shadow of a doubt. Their astounding lack of success among the people who know them best is only a “slight hitch in our giddy-up” because we now have a less well coiffed candidate to inflict upon the nation.

Big Momma Ice, NOW’s unanimous selection as the smartest woman in America, picked up on the dangers of the Deep South before any of us and moved from Arkansas to New York as part of her master plan to flee her past and defeat the Republicans. As Dan Bob says, “She’ll run over them like a big wheel through a cotton field” because “She’s hotter than a Laredo parking lot.”

Don’t bother to write those down because Dan Bob will be passing around a stack of handouts loaded with many more of these witty and pithy Southern colloquialisms, including the famous “What’s the frequency Kenneth?” query.

Many from the heart of our party, the elite tofu warriors, deserted Old Dixie. Fortunately, even though they now reside in the Socialist Worker’s Paradise to the North they retain the right to vote down here while worshipping Prime Minister Paul “You guys lost to that idiot, eh?” Martin.

A bonus to their exodus is that we can exploit their absence to show that we’ve helped economic recovery by creating a number of job openings in vegan restaurants, Birkenstock stores, latte lounges, liberal arts professorships, NGOs, contract fundraising for the Ward “Trust me, I really am an Indian” Churchill Free Speech Movement, George Soros sponsored 527s, yoga retreats, and progressive T-shirt shops.

Although I stand by my earlier statement that I hate Republicans and all they stand for, it’s time to strike a more positive note in our dealings with the Party of Numerous Overwhelming Victories. They’ve been more successful at peddling their soft soap than an Amway Double Diamond Distributor and more effective in spreading their message than a Jehovah’s Witness on speed.

To upset their momentum I’ve ordered the Conscience of the Senate, Bob Bob Byrd, also known to us as Nuclear Bob, to cease and desist in his psychotic ramblings linking the current President of the United States to the tactics used by Adolph “I can’t believe we lost…I’m an idiot” Hitler to dominate Europe. Instead, and more in tune with our future Southern constituency as I understand it from my extensive research, he has agreed to dust off his Kleagle Kredentials. On his infrequent visits to whichever parts of West Virginia that haven’t yet been turned into gaping holes in the ground he’ll encourage the paler of the Rabid Red sons/daughters/indefinites to follow him and vote their True Blue feelings.

To coin a phrase, I have a dream. My dream is to see millions of proud Southern Copenhagen dippers, as well as their husbands, show up at rural polling places to cast several ballots each for President Big Momma Ice in 2008.

As a graduate of the Albert Bob Einstein School of Medicine and Big Rig Driving, I, Howard Bob Dean, captain, chairman, and CEO of the DNC Southern Strategy Brain Trust, do have a foot planted firmly in both Southern camps; the intellectual elite, which is, as Dan Bob says is “thinner than turnip soup”, as well as the vast stoop labor crowd. I know how to appeal to both groups.

And the food stamp-dependent vote is locked in as usual. Just as we’ve done successfully in the past we’ll once again seduce them like we do our interns; with empty promises, tobacco products, and cheap booze. Remember, we’re the Democrats. Our core constituency Kool-Aid guzzlers will believe anything we say.

Speaking of booze and tobacco, a recent survey shows that alcohol consumption in the South is down while tobacco use is up. The decline of election day drunkenness may partially explain why we’re doing so poorly down there but the upside is that we may still be able to fog the minds of those ex-‘shine slurpers by promoting more smoking, chewing, and dipping. In addition, we can promote tobacco use to add to the permanently non-ambulatory voter pool if we’re truly dedicated to winning.

Graduation from a prestigious medical school/truck driving academy provides me with the credentials to assure you there is a link between tobacco use and death. We learned the wisdom of appealing to deceased ballot casters during the 50s and 60s but that valuable resource fell into disuse until recently. As a result of recent events I’m announcing the Dead Voter Initiative which will follow the current Washington State model. My friends and loyal subjects, we’ve now liberalized voter registration to the point that you no longer need to be breathing in order to vote for the Democrat of your choice. Just ask Christine “I can’t believe you guys lost to that idiot” Gregoire.

Another overlooked segment of our constituency is the huge number of pro-Democrat felons. Statistics show that a majority of them embrace the principles of our party and when allowed to, vote overwhelmingly for our candidates. Big Momma Ice, Barbara Bob Boxer; the woman who shaves with her eyes closed because she scares even herself, and the well-manicured John Bob “She’ll flip flop on sucking the head” Kerry, also known to many of us insiders as JFK Lite, need our support in passing federal legislation allowing these victims of Republican Party spite to vote.

Why should a person be penalized after release from a penal institution just because he/she/it killed a fellow citizen? Just imagine the massive cluster of potential voters in backwoods Southern counties, all of Texas, and urban Atlanta. What a goldmine! If you doubt the impact of this group just look again at the last Washington State Governor’s race. A number of felons joined other good Democrats in voting to help Christine “win” the election by fewer than 150 votes. We both need and deserve these fine people.

Speaking of felons, many of them were convicted of crimes involving firearms. This is not a problem. As Dan Bob says “If a frog had side pockets he’d carry a handgun.” We can use that unimpeachable fact to appeal to all dozen or so members of the Southern Environmental Consortium as well as the pro-gun lobby.

And even though the NRA already loves me we can’t be too shy about advertising our newly discovered fascination with guns and hunting. The semi-macho photo of John Bob “Sgt. Rock” Kerry in combat gear didn’t help him much in the last election but I believe we can boost Big Momma Ice considerably if we repeat the John Bob photo op in the marsh. We’ll get the same guy to smother a couple more geese and hide them where Big Momma Ice and a PETA official can wade into the weeds with shotguns and recover them as though they had picked them off in full flight.

Hey, those chimp cuddlers didn’t complain about John Bob’s excellent adventure in Gooseburg did they? And there wasn’t a peep when Jimmy Bob “I can’t believe I lost to that idiot’s daddy” Carter whacked that killer rabbit with a boat oar. Put PETA in the same class as our other mindless minority supporters. Like me, they hate Republicans. It’s a free ride for us. Plus it’ll play well with the drunken hunter crowd down in the land of cotton.

Even more important are the NASCAR Dogpatch people. My plan to attract and enchant this herd of no collar in-breeders is the same one used by early New York land speculators. We’ll dazzle them with trinkets and baubles.

Our first task is to locate and sponsor a NASCAR driver who lives up to our party’s performance record. That would be one who shows up for every race but seldom wins. One that circles the track “like a three-legged armadillo.” We’ll sponsor him and in return paint our slogan on his car. As a perpetual loser, he’ll drive slower, thereby giving the mouth breathers more time to read our message. The Brain Trust has decided that “Republicans Suck” will be the slogan most easily understood by that demographic.

The same will be printed on the ubiquitous Chinese-made “give me” baseball caps, beer coozies, and thong underwear that we’ll pass out at racetracks, bingo parlors, wrestling matches, and tractor pulls.

We’ll lock in that mass of squirrel bait by promising to change FEMA regulations to provide free government-sponsored mobile home insurance along with double payment, no deductible, no questions asked settlements on all trailer house damage claims, including suspicious arson losses and complete thefts.

There’s a chance that we may be able to tap into the largess of those newly homeless but vastly overpaid banjo strumming droolers. At the suggestion of Big Momma Ice I’ve outsourced a massive voter appreciation job to India. Sari clad artisans working for starvation wages will turn out beautiful paintings on black velvet to be distributed to Southerners who donate to the DNC either $500 in cash or food stamps or half their annual income, whichever is greater.

Pale contributors will receive a sofa-size art treasure depicting Big Momma Ice, Richard Bob Petty, David Bob Duke, the ghost of Bear Bob Bryant, and what’s left of Willie Bob Nelson, smoking cigars and playing poker.

The less pale may choose a similar piece with Big Momma Ice at the gaming table with Reverend Jesse Bob Jackson, Reverend Al Bob Sharpton, Senator Barack Bob Obama, and Donna Bob “I can’t believe we lost to that idiot white boy” Brazile..

And finally, in our quest to attract every available live voter we can’t afford to ignore the Southern Jewish bloc. That may be the most fertile field for our efforts and one overlooked by Molly Bob and Ann Bob. The Bushites managed to steal only 24% of the Israelite vote in the last heist. Under the Dead Voter Initiative that leaves 93% for our share in the next election.

Mystery writer/magazine columnist/musician/cigar smoker/salsa maker Kinky Bob Friedman is now trying to get on the ballot as a candidate for the office of Governor of Texas. He may be stumping the State with his band, The Texas Jewboys. If so, we need to help out by sending in the immensely popular and hilarious best selling author/personality/radio talk show host Al Bob “Lone Star Shecky” Franken as his opening act. Even though Kinky Bob claims to be an Independent, anybody who wants to appoint Willie Bob Nelson as head of the Texas Rangers and encourage him to develop vegetable oil-based “Biodiesel” as the fuel of the future has to be a closet liberal fruitcake.

This unbeatable combination will be a downhill steamroller. Competence won’t even be an issue for Kinky Bob since his campaign slogan is “How Hard Could It Be?”

To sum up, let’s implement this plan with our usual Democrat efficiency and solidarity. After all, as I’ve always shrieked---how hard could it be?