The all-purpose presidential stump speech

Photo by Michael Vandon.

My fellow (travelers/ real Americans), it is (an honor/ a hoot) to be with you tonight here in (Cambridge, Massachusetts/ Bunkerville, Idaho) the home of (self-righteous twentysomething White men/ the World’s Largest Teapot).

As I go around the country speaking to farmers, small business owners, and (electronic musicians/ fellow John Birch Society members), I’m struck by how similar we all are. We all love (ourselves/ tiny governments, fearful of their own citizenry). We all hate (many things we don’t know about/ Obama). We all acknowledge the (eventual limits of our breathtaking talents/ inevitable day when we, the people, must take up arms in insurrection against our totalitarian government).

But we do not fear, for we know that (our barely perceptible limits/ the impending totalitarian government) will not prevail. For we have (centuries of unacknowledged privilege/ a limitless stockpile of assault-type weapons). Our cause is (self-actualizing/ Constitutionally permissible) and our voices will (drown out other, quieter voices / drown out other, quieter voices).

Our opponents seek to destroy America by (having the same religious beliefs as our rural grandparents/ having a federal government). But we can save our country from this terror with (hashtag activism/ the very guns they seek to ban). That is the American way.

My opponent, (the entire Republican Party/ She Who Shall Not Be Named), has (been called “the next Hitler”/ an abiding hatred for most Americans). That’s because (I called them that yesterday/ she fears the coming insurrection). I think we can all agree that we do not want (any of these raging next-Hitlers/ a woman) in this office.

To overcome such obstacles and naysayers we must begin by (scolding public figures on social media/ building a subterranean bunker surrounded by a moat or similar) and (if things don’t change, scolding them again, more sternly/ stocking that bunker with dried and canned goods).

I am inspired by stories of campaign volunteers, knocking on doors in the dead of winter (to tell hardworking, blue collar White people they are stupid/ warning people of the grave danger posed to the Republic by political elites and exhorting them, your next door neighbors, to begin recruiting foot soldiers for the coming standoff).

We are going to take our (smug Ivy League staffers/ snowballing citizen militia) to Iowa, to New Hampshire, to South Carolina, all the way to Washington, where we will get to work (ironically commentating on/ laying waste to) our nation’s once-proud capital.

The chorus of doubters is large and our odds are long, due to (our personalities/ accumulated rust on many of our antique rifles). And we may (lose/ lose and also die). But we will fight on all the same.

They can take away (the social mobility of regular people/ our guns) but they’ll never take away our (confidence that we know what’s best for regular people / other, hidden guns).