No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

You want proof why you should vote for me for president, and ultimately ruler of the world? I offer you Jeff Deck and Benjamin Herson, and the warning that no good deed goes unpunished.

Their plight is proof that the country needs a DIMWIT for president (Do It My Way, It's Time). Because you just gotta wonder what kind of BB-stackers are in charge.

Deck and Herson, both 28, toured the United States this spring, wiping out errors on government and private signs. According to the Associated Press, they were interviewed by National Public Radio and the Chicago Tribune, which called them "a pair of Kerouacs armed with Sharpies and erasers and righteous indignation."

It seems they got caught correcting grammar on a sign at Grand Canyon National Park, and now they're banned from all national parks for a year and have been ordered to pay more than $3,000 to fix the sign. Why? They already fixed it for free. What are they supposed to do now — bring it back to its original incorrect form?

They removed an unneeded apostrophe and added a comma. The two men said they wanted to correct a really immense spelling mistake (they wanted to correct the spelling of immense from emense, but reluctantly decided not to take that chance). So for doing a good thing, they were arrested and eventually pleaded guilty to vandalizing government property.

Oh please! I'm so impressed that someone so young actually knows about — and CARES about — correct grammar and punctuation that I almost don't have the energy to work up a good righteous snit about their guilty plea. Vandalism? Give me a break.

If I were president and eventually ruler of the world, I'd commute the sentence and give those young men a medal. At least. In fact, I'd pay them to go across country and continue their efforts. It would take them the rest of their lives. Talk about job security!

I'd even encourage them correct blatant spelling errors meant to be clever or cute: Kut 'n Kurl for a styling salon. Kuntry Kitchen Restaurant featuring good old-fashioned home kuntry kooking. Kut's Plus (what is it about some hair stylists that they can't spell? Do we really want to trust them with scissors so close to our heads?).

Then I'd recruit others to do other jobs (and I know there are others because I've seen their blogs: apostrophe abuse and the blog of unnecessary quotations). I'd recruit people who could teach newscasters, some editors, and writers for TV programs and commercials the difference between lie and lay, between and among, when to use 'I' and when to use 'me.' Don't even get me started on split infinitives.

Why are Americans so worried about immigrants not wanting to learn English? Some native born Americans don't speak it either. They certainly don't write it correctly. Those who do care about grammar and punctuation, and want to preserve the language in its correct form are punished for it. That's just un-American and no DIMWIT should allow it to continue.

I can only hope that once their probation is over Deck and Herson come back with a vengeance — and more Sharpies.

The DIMWIT party doesn't need Paris

Just when you thought the world was safe again, Paris Hilton shows up like a zit on prom night. By now everyone has seen her video clip on You Tube where she refers to Sen. John McCain as "a wrinkly old white haired dude," and suggests that people vote for her for president because, as she says "I'm hot."

Paris, Paris, Paris. You blonde bimbo. If I didn't know any better I'd think you were cutting in on my campaign for president first, then ruler of the world.

I have formed my own political party and want to run for president, as a start, not because I'm hot because hot will get you nowhere but sweaty. My party, Do It My Way, It's Time (DIMWIT) might appeal to Paris because she is a bit of a — well, never mind, now isn't the time to sling anything. People should vote for me because I know best. Hot is fleeting; right stays around forever, and I am always right. It's time to do things the DIMWIT way.

It might improve my campaign chances if I included Paris in the DIMWIT campaign as my running mate. She certainly has the cash to wage a good campaign, and she has name recognition. I've even heard people say she is a bit of a — well, you know.

But I'm not sure the world is ready for a political team made up of a blonde bimbo and a gracefully aging political diva who has avoided wrinkles, white hair and reality, and really doesn't need any help. As I've said before, being president is only a stepping stone to where I rightfully belong, ruler of the world. Whoever heard of a vice ruler? No, Paris. I work alone. And I'm always right.

Paris may think she's hot, but she won't know hot at all until it comes at her in flashes. I've survived PMS, menopause, sexism, chauvinism, wedgie-inducing pantyhose, static cling, ugly shoes and more bad hair days than I care to think about. That's the kind of grace under pressure that can get anyone through summit talks on any continent.

All Paris knows how to do is lean backward and smile with her mouth open like she's read for someone to throw in a beanbag and win a prize. Is that the person you want to be only a heartbeat away from the presidency and rulercy of the world?

My campaign so far has been low key because, well, it needed to be. The others have been making so much noise we're all sick of them and we still have months to go before we vote. Paris may say she's hot, but hot fizzles and burns out. I'm subtle, refreshing. I don't flip-flop on issues because, right or wrong, I am always right.

I'm too old to scandalize the populace with any hanky-panky behind the scenes (mostly for lack of opportunity) and I don't suffer fools gladly. That's my first goal as potential ruler of the world: get rid of all the fools in government. They're just taking up space, causing trouble and don't need to be replaced. That ought to be a huge improvement until I come up with my next project.

So when you go to the polls in November, and you don't want to vote for the "old wrinkly white-haired dude," don't think of the hot one, think instead of the DIMWIT. And if you have trouble telling them apart, well, you're just not paying attention.