Newt Gingrich Has Lost His Shit: An Open Letter to Newt Gingrich

Newt,

Do you mind if I call you Newt? I've never known a Newt. As I kid I had a tree frog, turtles, dogs, and even a tarantula, but never a newt, much less a Newt. It's quite the diminutive.  I have to say though, maybe you should have stuck with Newton or even rocked Leroy once you kind of figured out you may want to go into politics. Plenty of people go by their middle names (I do!) and Newt just strikes me as a little unpresidential. Like Cooter or Hambone or Catfish. Enough about the name; you're played the cards you're dealt, right?

What I want to know is this: WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS MOON COLONY BULLSHIT?!?! A moon colony? Really, Newt? Really? What is going on with the GOP? You guys are in a race for the Republican nomination, not a race to see who can be the most unelectable. Rick Perry is a crazy, Christian fundamentalist with an affinity for Carhartt jackets, incredibly well coiffed hair, and epic verbal bumbles. Michele Bachmann is a sharp-faced homophobe (in spite of the fact that she seems to be married to a confirmed bachelor) who simultaneously manages to misspell both her first and last names. Herman Cain is a pizza baron (a pizza baron?) who apparently likes to give his female customers a little extra pepperoni even when they say "Please, no pepperoni, Mr. Cain." Mitt Romney is a Mormon cyborg who is incredibly successful in the business of ruining lives. And Ron Paul, well, he sometimes makes sense, which precludes him from ever doing anything meaningful in Washington.

Newt, you were back in the game! Granted, that game is a game of Who Wants To Lose To Obama Next November, but at least you were in the conversation after an epically slow start off the blocks. And now this? A moon colony? Were all your staffers just sitting around before the Florida primary out of ideas and frustrated and someone said, "Fuck it, let's watch Total Recall"?

Ground control to Newt Gingrich. Take your protein pills and put your helmet on.

Listen, I'm all for setting a lofty goal to galvanize the nation in the face of stark challenges, but Kennedy's "Land a man on the moon" this is not. We were in the throes of The Cold War and an epic pissing contest with the Soviets. There was a race to be won. The Taliban doesn't even believe in toothpaste, much less space travel and I'm pretty sure John Q. Public would rather find a way to keep his house here on earth than have you fund a program to build him one on THE FUCKING MOON! The moon?!?

This has been like watching a bunch of special needs high school kids run for class office. You guys might as well promise to put Dr. Pepper in all of the nation's drinking fountains or cut the workday by two hours every Friday for a nationwide pep rally.

Seriously, Newt. Stop playing. You guys are all joking around, right? This is like a massive hidden camera show and the entire US populace is the mark, right? That has to be it. You guys are going to put Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, and Saturday Night Live out of business because the Republican debates are more hilarious than anything Comedy Central or SNL writers could come up with. Is that the angle? Shoot me straight. You guys are just ceding this election to Obama in a bid to run the lampooners out of business and pave the way for a Republican win in 2016, right?

No?

WHAT THE FUCK, NEWT GINGRICH?!

I feel like Will Ferrell's Alex Trebek in the Celebrity Jeopardy sketches from Saturday Night Live. Say something that makes sense, anything at all, and you can win this nomination. What's that you say? Fund a moon colony? Jesus.

Hoping you're the first and last colonist we send to the moon,

Doug

  

A Note On The Pillow To 2011

2011,

By the time you read this, I'll be gone. I know it must be a shock to wake up alone with just this letter lying beside you, but it had to be like this. I've seen out other years with one last hurrah. Dancing, champagne toasts, sparkly hats, and whatnot. But to be honest, our relationship was so dysfunctional I'm afraid of what you might have done once you realized I was taking 2012 home with me.

That's right, I'm with 2012 now. I get that this may make you feel abandoned and that you're probably wondering how I could make such a big commitment so quickly, but to be honest, you made it pretty easy. Sure, there were high points. You were with me when my best friends married one another in a beautiful wedding by the lake. You celebrated on my couch right beside me during Baylor's first superlative football season in years. And for a few delirious weeks in August I thought I might want to be with you forever in spite of the other things that came between us before. But there were other things...

If you're honest with yourself, you know what I'm talking about, but here are a few of the low points in case you're feeling wrongly done by.

• I never should have leapt into your arms so aggressively. You wound up being a lot like 2010 and I should have recognized that immediately. By March we were already fighting and I essentially wasted three months on you because I forgot the lessons I had learned from 2010. 
• You killed my grandfather. He's the best man I've ever known and I realize it was his time, but that's not something you just get over. 
• You were terrible with finances. Seriously, I almost had to forgo my friends' wedding because of that. Money literally fell out of your pockets and it took a healthy dose of pride swallowing and some DEFCON 5 type action on my part to try to make it better.
• The icing on the cake was that one awful, irresponsible decision you made in September that helped sink our Indian Summer together and has made this fall a living hell. I can't even begin to quantify the costs of that quagmire. I'm not sure I'll ever forgive you for that. Heartbreaking. 

You may never see things my way, but I'm OK with that. I'll turn 32 with 2012 and I can't handle the sort of roller coaster relationship you were addicted to. I have to do this for me and there's no going back. Don't call. Don't write. Don't ask our friends about me. The best thing I can say about you is that you taught me some excruciating, stone-cold, starkly unforgettable lessons.

You were a stop sign...a massive, blinking, fire-engine red stop sign. I'll be by to get my things at some point, but I'm bringing 2012 with me. Don't make a scene.

- Doug