I am that candidate

Arthur Plotnik is the author of, most recently, "Spunk and Bite: A Writer's Guide to Bold, Contemporary Style."

Am i a candidate for public office? Who isn't? Am I here? We'll find out. Am I addressing you? The evidence points to yes. Will I be answering my own questions? Time will tell. Do I have anything to hide? That, my friends, is one of those gotcha questions.

Am I running on my record? Who the heck else's? Does the record speak for itself? On that the record is mute.

Do I have anything to say to the American people? Folks, I am here to tell you, "No comment." Am I going to speak anyway? That's a yes. At the end of the day, will I still be me? That's something you'll need to decide for yourselves. Will you have to decide for yourselves? What did I just say?

Do I have positions on the issues? Better believe it. Am I worked up about poverty? Bet your bottom dollar. Terrorism? Against! Healthcare? For! How about the playing field? Level it!

Is my faith important to me? Verily, that is a matter of religion. Right-to-life versus women's choice? Let's go for it.

Is my private life anyone's business? Constantly. Do I beat my wife? You'll have to ask her. Is my son the biggest boozer in town? He is out of town. Is my daughter a lesbian? She is not. Do I love her anyway? Like a son.

Do I think we can win this war? Sounds like a plan. Do I believe it was a mistake to go to war in the first place? Not on my watch. Should we bring the troops home? Depends on where they live.

Am I tough on crime? Ask my brother-in-law. Should we throw the switch on capital punishment? If guilty, yes. Gun control? One word: Bang!

Do I find global warming an inconvenient truth? His words, not mine. Do I have my own view on the environment? I do. What is my view? Someone has to take responsibility. Who would that be? The weather people and the polar bears.

Am I the only candidate with a plan for fixing immigration, the Middle East and the economy in one swipe? I am that candidate. What's the plan? Those who need to know, know. Just who are those who need to know? Those who need to know just who needs to know, know on a need-to-know basis.

Finally, do I have one of those treacly anecdotes that every candidate has to dole out? I do:

Campaigning deep in the American heartland, Las Vegas, I came upon a woman who'd lost every cent she'd ever earned in a lifetime of plying her trade. Maybe she'd had no business at the baccarat table -- but do I judge people for their recreational wagering choices? I do not. This desperate, sweet-talkin' woman -- making too much for welfare and too little for high-rolling -- put aside her pride and begged me to stake her $1,000 for the dollar slots. Did I do so? Yes. Did she proceed to hit jackpot after jackpot and put food back on her table and slip me something for the war chest? She did not.

That woman lost every buck in 10 minutes and disappeared with a man wearing a gold chain.

People, our great nation was founded on this very principle. Of what principle do I speak? That there's a sucker born every minute.

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