First Impression: A Newer Stump Speech | View From The Top | Hudson Valley | Chronogram Magazine
My fellow Americans, as you may possibly know, I am running for President of the United States. And it’s time for some tough talk, on policy and options. Let’s look hard at the soft issues and softly at the harder issues—that’s my method.

I am often asked: “Sparrow, where do you stand on same-sex marriage?” Now, let me explain that I subscribe to the neo-Jungian theory that there are 13 sexes. For example, men who cry at movies, are slightly overweight, but own a gun are one sex. Women who read Scientific American are another. Everyone under 5’ 2” is a third sex. And so on. Do I believe that people should marry within their sexual subset? Certainly! But I will not require this by law—unlike certain of my opponents. Mike Huckabee would force each of the 13 sex categories to marry within their own type. That’s why I am running for President, in fact. To defend the rights of the 13 sexes! Remember my slogan: Only Sparrow Believes in All 13 Sexual Typologies! Sparrow for President!

Now we come to the thorny issue of immigration. I have thought deeply on this question, and there is only one fair resolution: Each time someone immigrates to America, someone else must emigrate from America. This will be decided by lottery. For example, if a new immigrant arrives from Cambodia, a large wheel will be spun in Washington, and eventually Erica Cosgrove of Cape Charles, Virginia will be deported from our nation. (Of course, Ms. Cosgrove may not be the one chosen. She’s just a random example.)

Extreme voices in the anti-immigrant movement—voices one may hear daily on certain radio frequencies—believe we must search the cemeteries of America, dig up illegal immigrants, and mail them back to their country of origin. But I, Sparrow, resist this demagoguery. I say: Amnesty for the dead! Let deceased immigrants all be declared citizens!

There’s been a lot of discussion in this election about saving the middle class, protecting the middle class, et cetera. Let me confide in you, my electorate, quite honestly, that I have always found the middle class slightly annoying. I am running to protect the hobos, people who dress up as rabbits, stevedores, opera singers, prostitutes, experts on Chaucer—people like that. The middle class, with their uncomfortable couches and macaroni casseroles, can probably take care of themselves. That’s why I have developed the pithy slogan: The Middle Class Be Damned! Let’s Concern Ourselves with Hobos, Divas, Sex Workers and Chaucerians! Sparrow For President!

Now we come to the subject of taxes. Every single candidate besides me is promising you a tax cut, but I must respectfully disagree. Let’s face it, our nation owes $4 trillion—most of it to a gentleman named Chang Hu Li in Shanghai. We are in a desperate position. And we have only one choice: to tax children! Starting at the age of one, boys and girls must ante up to show their commitment to the American way of life. I realize there’s going to be a lot of smashed piggy banks, and many tears, but frankly, it’s necessary. The Sparrow Equable Tax Plan will be fair—some children will pay as little as six cents. But certain affluent toddlers will owe several hundred million dollars. My slogan is: Let Rich Kids and Poor Kids Pay Their Way! There’s No More Free Milk and Cookies! Sparrow for President!

Finally, America is dangling from an icy precipice of steep verticality. She must take a leap of faith, across the yawning abyss of multiple despair, onto the fern-filled plateau that is me, Sparrow. I know this is a complex metaphor, but it’s an indispensable one.

Now you may ask me, “Sparrow, if we are dangling from an icy precipice—that is, hanging by our fingers from a shelf of ice—how can we take a leap of faith?” And I will reply: “That’s a good question. My guess is that you must push off with your legs, and hurtle backwards across the yawning abyss of multiple despair, then at some point flip over, face forwards, extend your arms and glide, onto the fern-filled plateau that is me.” It won’t be easy. But nothing in the realm of politics ever is. You may, quite likely, fall into the gaping abyss. But perhaps, somewhere in the abyss, you’ll find a nice cheap motel, where you may stay for a couple of nights and plan your next move. That’s why my final slogan is: Leap Over That Doggone Yawning Abyss of Multiple Despair! Sparrow for President!

Thank you, America!

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