McCain also has the amateur chess player’s weakness for making an impulsive move just to see what will happen
I share John McCain’s amateur chess player’s weakness. I’m impulsive when I play chess, and in real life. I’m an amateur chess player when I decide to click on some shit on the internet, when I blurt out my order in a doomed taqueria. It’s why I’m not going to win this election. The exit polls are just this moment beginning to come back, but I’m almost positive that very few people will have voted for me–or for my running mate, “Goalie.” No one will write us on to their ballot–legibly or otherwise. We have failed. We will have failed.
I’m planning on taking the winter off–to take stock. I’ll rent a cabin up north, maybe near Nunavut. I’ll take an ax to a brick of frozen dogshit– Chop it up into managable chunks. I will try to take my heart into my hands and just scrub the brick of dogshit down–until it shines with its own wet melt. My pantry will be stocked with chocolate, sugar, cocoa butter, skim milk, peanuts, lactose, milkfat, soy lecithin, artificial flavors, salt, cornstarch, partially hydrogenated soybean oil, dextrin, coloring, gum acacia, and possibly some almonds. I’m going to try to make dark chocolate M&Ms in my little Nunavutian kitchen. But I’ll emblazon them with P’s instead of M’s. And I won’t eat them. I’ll dig a little pit out near the dogshit cube and mound them in. Every night, after whiskey, I piss on my homemade M&M’s. After a month or so, Ill’ve built a frozen companionate sculpture–something to keep the cube company. Then I’ll ship the whole thing back to New York on flats of frozen Evian and show it at The Dana Gallery in Chelsea. Pricetag: $1,200–just enough to cover my airfare, the ingredients, and a modest commission.