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Cosmetic surgery A Stitch in Time...By Rick Horowitz "...settle down. If everyone will kindly settle down, we'll get started, so we can get finished. Welcome one and all to the Acme Surgical Theater, part of the vast educational and training facility known the world over as Fred's Med School. I'm Fred, and -- " "Will this be on the final?" "There is no final, young man. Today's seminar is entirely elective, and is offered to those students who have chosen to concentrate on the rapidly growing field of political medicine, students who aspire one day to be fully board-certified Doctors of Spin." "So that's a 'no'?" "That's a 'no.' Our object here this morning is simply to bring you up to speed on the latest techniques being developed in this increasingly important field of endeavor. Your 'final,' if you will, will occur out there in the real world someday, as you attempt to apply what you've learned to the candidate of your choice." "Awesome!" "Now, I presume all of you are familiar with organ transplants? With skin and bone grafts? Well, the experimental techniques we discuss today have elements of both procedures, and yet represent something of an advance over either. The techniques we discuss today are called: intangible transplants, and value grafts. So let me introduce our two subjects for your consideration." "I know those guys! They're -- " "That's quite enough, thank you. Our subjects typically prefer to remain anonymous -- even when they are perhaps recognizable. We will call these two gentlemen Albert G. and George B., OK? Now, George B. here -- he arrived at our clinic several weeks ago with an acute case of hypogravitas. Anyone?" "He isn't serious enough." "Precisely! His boyish demeanor and casual grasp of details led some of his supporters -- and many of his detractors -- to question his qualifications for high office. For very high office." "But he looks serious now." "Yes he does, and all because of this exciting new procedure: a total heft graft. Observe, please, these stitches here at the base of the skull, where we have attached to George B. a portly, balding and thoroughly low-key man from Wyoming. This 'Cheney graft,' as we like to call it, produced a virtually instant improvement in George B.'s PSLs." "PSLs?" "Perceived Serious Levels. Whether he is in fact any more serious, or has any firmer a grasp on the nuances of policy, is open to question. It is also, if I may say so, entirely beside the point. This is, I remind you, political medicine, where perception is the only thing that matters." "Cool!" "Totally cool, yes. Now let us turn to Albert G., standing next to him. Albert G. arrived at our clinic just a few days ago, exhibiting all the classic symptoms of severe integrity deficit. In the old days, his condition would have proved entirely disabling in an electoral setting. But look what we've done here, and here, and here: a full decency transplant." "Those stitches run right to left?" "Exactly. This we call the 'Lieberman transplant.' the introduction of an ethical, religious, and thoroughly low-key man from Connecticut. With the 'Lieberman transplant' in place, Albert G. is suddenly perceived to be a more honest man himself, with a stronger moral center and a greater degree of independence from other, less savory, influences." "Doctor, you said these are still experimental techniques, and you've only treated these men a short time ago. What are the chances of rejection?" "For one of them, I'd put the chance of rejection at 100 percent." "But -- " "But we won't know which one until November." Posted 8/8/00. Improve your image -- tell your friends you visit "Rick's"!
AND HERE'S A LITTLE BONUS OFFERING!
One last convention tale So Much for Outreach...By Rick Horowitz True story: After the convention's final balloon drop last Thursday night, I join a couple of colleagues for a celebratory drink and some conversation, then wander back to my hotel a little after 2 a.m. I'm headed up to my room when the elevator doors open at the 10th floor, and a blonde woman in a red outfit gets in, heading for an upper floor. She's got a brightly colored cardboard box in her hands. Inside the box, there's a doll in a similar red outfit. "Convention Barbie!" I say. (I'd heard about these specially costumed Barbie dolls that each of the delegates had received on arrival.) "Convention Barbie!" I say, looking through the plastic wrap at the as-yet-unopened box with the mocha-skinned and delegate-costumed Barbie inside. "Convention Barbie!" I say, with as much energy as I can muster at that time of the night, after four days of nonstop, feel-good speechifying and inclusiveness and "we're-one-big-happy-family" hype. And the woman
says, "Yeah, we're gonna trade her for a white one."
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Rick Horowitz