Well, THAT was a good time, huh? Really, the only thing left unsettled after the third presidential debate last night is just how Alec Baldwin and Kate McKinnon will possibly top that train wreck.
And when I say “train wreck,” of course, I’m talking about Trump’s performance. When he first walked onto the stage, he seemed to have subdued his inner toddler, and he even had his coke habit alleged coke habit sniffing of unknown origin under control. Until Clinton started to needle him a bit, at which point he committed a slow political harikiri in front of America. All of social media. Pretty much the entire world, actually.
Let’s review some highlights/lowlights, shall we?
- That time when Trump lied about late term abortions: “you can take the baby and rip the baby out of the womb of the mother just prior to the birth of the baby.” Yeah, no. That doesn’t happen.
- That time when Trump responded to a question about his proposed direction for the Supreme Court by complaining that Ruth Bader Ginsberg hurt his wittle fee-fees.
- That time when Trump continued to deny what US intelligence has concluded, that Russia was behind the email hacks—but did not deny that Putin would much prefer he win this election. Gosh, I wonder why that is.
- That time when Trump said that the sexual assault allegations against him have been debunked. As Inigo Montoya would say, “I do not think that word means what you think it means.”
- And last, but certainly not least, that time when Trump refused to commit to a peaceful transfer of power. In response to moderator Chris Wallace’s question as to whether he would, if he were the loser, concede the election, Trump said, “I’ll tell you at the time. I’ll keep you in suspense, okay?” Um, NO, you execrable garbage person, that is the ANTITHESIS of “okay.” It’s so not-okay that it is unprecedented. Our democracy is kinda built on not having to have a mini-coup every four years!!
Wow. Just wow.
And on the flip side, there’s Hillary Clinton, who strode onto the debate stage wearing what at first seemed to be an innocuous white pantsuit, hinting at purity and innocence, but which soon became obvious as the uniform of avenging angels everywhere. She certainly won the first debate, and arguably the second one, but this time around, she mopped the floor with The Donald, largely by poking at him until he exploded into a mass of unintelligible and indefensible meandering statements based on nothing so much as the fevered internet imaginings of the alt-right.
But more important than her ability to get Trump to visibly self-destruct and commit political suicide on national TV, SHE OWNED IT. Last night, we got a delicious taste of how Clinton plans to lead. For the next four—possibly eight, please please please let it be eight—years, we will have a president who is strong, principled, prepared, and utterly, completely qualified.
Let’s make that happen, people. November 8. Vote.
VOTE.
