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John McCain must die


It’s a very simply calculation really. You just go to www.deathclock.com type in Mr McCain’s date of birth (29th August 1936), his sex , BMI and smoking status and there you go. McCain has 73,222, 861 seconds to live. 


This is no better argument against voting for John McCain. He’s 72. He’s way too old. Should he win in November he’ll become the oldest President ever to be inaugurated. That’s not a good thing. They’re going to have to remove all the stairs from the White House so he doesn’t have a heart attack walking up them. Surely the States can’t elect a President who’s going to die halfway through his first term?


Let’s imagine what could be taking place on 10th June 2010 (with research from The West Wing). What if there are a group of rebels surrounding the American embassy in Haiti? Or a nuclear submarine has gone silent in North Korean waters? Or the President’s personal physician gets blown up on the way to do African missionary work? What if he collapses in the Situation Room and falls on the red button?


It seems amazing that none of the other candidates have picked up on this. Sure it would be a PR disaster for any of the serious front runners but can’t one of the mentals – Ron Paul for example – pick up on this? Instead of his obsession with the gold standard in every debate (or at least the one’s where he sneaks past security – here ) he can promise that, if elected, he would be, you know, actually alive at the end of his first term. Regardless of political leanings I think we can all agree that the ability to breathe is a pretty crucial quality in any candidate.


Anyway, that was all a slightly elaborate way of introducing my current obsession – and obsession is the correct word – with the American primary season. America does politics in a way that Peter Snow can only dream about. It’s like a reality tv contest where you can win a place in the White House. In fact, scrap the like, it is a reality tv contest, and it’s an awesome one because the prize is the most important job in the world. Over several months we meet the characters: here’s the religious one, here’s the dynamic youthful one, here’s the grandfather, here’s the power woman. Then we watch as they’re whittled down over a series of elaborate tasks. Just like Big Brother you get those moments where one of the contestants has let their guard down and cries (take a bow Hillary) or says something stupid (Mr Richardson).


And watching at home you get to pick your team and root for them through a series of sporting contests: ridiculous debates in front of Air Force One (Regan built a library big enough to fit a jumbo jet – here ), and attack ads against other candidates. These attack ads are particularly fun. Take a look at this one for example where John McCain emerges from behind Hillary like some kind of bizarre alien lifeform on the Sci-Fi channel, poised to attack (here ).


So pick your team, buy a t-shirt and break out the razzmataz because we’re going to be paying pretty close attention to the US Presidential race right here along with a whole host of other exciting* topics. (*not legally binding)


I should probably introduce myself as Cherwell 24’s newest blogger at this point but to be honest I’ve left it too late to do it now and it’s only going to be awkward. A simply hello will have to suffice. Hello. And, since we’re at the end, Goodbye.


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