Keeping Hope Alive

Let's all take a moment this morning to thank the good people of Ohio for keeping open the possibility that America may be saved from total chaos and destruction.  By giving their native son, John Kasich, a win in yesterday's primary, Ohioans make it than much more difficult for Donald Trump to get to the GOP national convention (in Cleveland, by the way) with enough delegates to clinch the nomination.  It's highly unlikely that Ted Cruz--even with his much-desired drop out by Marco Rubio last night--will get enough delegates either.  That would mean a contested convention--with the likelihood of a brokered nomination featuring someone who may not have even been in the initial race.

I had to laugh yesterday when I saw on-line articles and tweets about Jeb Bush being some sort of "convention hero" who would suddenly rise from the dead and convert the 3% support he had as an actual candidate in the race into the nomination.  It's bad enough the Democrats are putting a 1990's retread on the ballot--we don't need two.

Of course, my hope is that once the Trumpkins and Evangelicals are locked out of the Cleveland Convention center, real Republicans will take a look at their options and realize the only hope for the party is for the ever-reluctant Paul Ryan to be the nominee.  I even have a way for him to win over Trump supporters for the general election: steal plot lines from WWE wrestling.

On the final night of the convention, have Trump and Cruz engage in one final debate.  Promote it as a "Winner Take All Steel Cage Match" and just let them rip into each other--no moderator, no time limits.  And just when you think the debate has reached its most heated point, the lights go off in the convention hall and stirring patriotic music begins to play over the PA system.  The Fox News Channel announcers look at each other in disbelief and then shout in unison "OH MY GAWD, IS THAT PAUL RYAN'S MUSIC?!?!"

Suddenly a spotlight shines on the back of the hall and we see the House Speaker sprinting down the center aisle toward the stage--shirt off, maybe a little body glitter sprayed on for effect.  He jumps up to the podiums, body slams Ted Cruz to the ground and knocks out Donald Trump by hitting him with a chair that Clint Eastwood just happened to leave on the stage earlier in the night.  And then Paul grabs the Nomination Title Belt and holds it above his head--as the convention delegates roar with approval--and millions of Trump voters watching at home say "Dang, that's the guy I want as my President!"

So keep splitting those delegates Donald and Ted.  It just gives the rest of us hope that the best nominee will still emerge in the end.