Friday, March 16, 2007

Jane Eyre runs for president.

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I am challenged at the Iowa caucuses to endorse gay marriage as a sacred institution. Of course I believe it, but how can they make me say so when they know the political cost it will exact? Hot tears of rage stream down my scarlet face.

In New Hampshire, I endure the grandiose posturing of Chris Matthews so I can get an interview on MSNBC. What a blowhard the man is! Who, man or woman, would not find his pompous questions exasperating? I curl my fists into tiny balls beneath the interview table.

There comes a time, dear reader, when a woman of high conscience must make her feelings plain. Today, in Ohio, I came out strongly for government support of stem-cell research.

I am for an increase in the minimum wage. I believe the government should negotiate with pharmaceutical companies to lower the cost of prescription drugs. I am curious as to why there are not more books of quality in the nation's public libraries. I have taken fewer liberties on the campaign trail than others have, surely, but this small conservatism is a wise choice for a woman of my stature in a fight to gain the highest office in the land.

Reader, take this information and hold it to your heart. It is between us. I am in love with the person who will likely be my running mate, the future vice president. He is a young senator from Illinois with a handsome countenance, the most remarkable pedigree, and an unfortunate middle name. What ever shall I do!

I am determined not to allow Senator McCain, of the state of Arizona, to escape responsibility for the abandonment of his principles. My campaign has released a list of talking points. The main theme is that McCain will say anything to get elected.

We are in the "swing" states. Curious nomenclature these Americans use. I sometimes think language is not their strong suit. Plans for the convention are coming along. My senator looks well before the crowds. Handsome, sure of himself, and quite tall. I do quite like him. We make a pair.

In other matters, a midnight rendezvous with the young senator has left me flushed. So dizzy was I, it's a wonder I made it back to my room. Today, I could barely keep my mind on my stump speech. The campaign is in constant motion. Everything is a blur. Our consultants tell us Georgia and Florida are well in hand.

In South Carolina, my nemesis McCain makes an issue of my lack of military service. He appears oblivious to the fact that 19th-century English women were prohibited from military service. So I ask him, "If I have no military experience, what fault is that of mine?" Does he not see the injustice of his charge, at least as it relates to me? Truly, a young woman of courage has few friends in this world.

The papers today have released a secret the senator and I have shared, and our advisers fear it imperils our campaign. The senator and I, it has been revealed, both speak French, and sometimes converse in that language. What of it? Is this all the opposition has? I have told my senator not to worry. Common sense will, in the end, prevail.

Dear reader, it has been a whirlwind! Never have I known any task to be so arduous, or so prolonged. But New York has put us over the top. To my mind, this is just according to plan. The young senator and I may now plan our convention. The event will be more a coronation than a nomination, but such is the trend, and I see no harm in following it.

There will be time enough for change, dear reader. Fret not about your little Jane.

Oh, we are to win, dear reader, we are to win! I can sense it in my heart. McCain is too old. The campaign has scarcely begun and already he is faltering. We're up by three points, and our lead can only grow. It is a new era in American politics. The permanent Republican majority is truly cooked, and I will be the first 19th-century Victorian woman president. Imagine!

I can already see myself, with my hand upon the Bible that will be held by Chief Justice Roberts, which is unfortunate, but what can one do? They can't be fired. Still, the image appeals, and beyond it I can see the bright future my young senator and I, and our country, will share. An increase in the minimum wage. Lower prices for prescription drugs. An end to the horrid occupation of Iraq. Finally, and thank God.

We are like a lamp atop the tall mast of a ship, the senator and I, and the American people are the wind that fills our sails. I am so fortunate to have been a good speech writer. The senator and I are quite a team. We have been blessed with the mercy of heaven, a strong political mandate, and a majority in both houses.

He is like the country he loves so much: towering, confident, not always as articulate as you would expect. He should probably run for the office himself someday. But, until then, I shall lead them both, my love and my country, for as long as they will let me, and when they put their collective arm around me I shall be their prop and their guide

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