Read President Me Online

Authors: Adam Carolla

President Me (3 page)

But our leaders can't tell the truth. We won't let them. We've created a society where the politicians aren't allowed to criticize the people. There's no tough love coming out of the White House or Congress. They've gone from leaders and legislators to wedding caterers. If they want to keep the gig, they better give us what we want.

Thus it's gone from “Ask not what your country can do for you but what you can do for your country” to “These rich people aren't paying their fair share. You're working-class heroes, even though you don't work. Why shouldn't you get the same medical attention that Malcolm Forbes gets?” That's how you end up with “Hope and Change” and “Occupy Wall Street.” A bunch of people saying, “Come on, Barack, do it for me. Fix my life.” The more people that get into that mind-set, the less likely it is for someone to get elected who will act like your dad. Someone who will say, “Enough whining. Get your shit together.”

Fixing your fucked-up life is not government's job. Handling the stuff that people can't do themselves—like war—is. One man can't take out a dictator or stop a terrorist attack, unless that man is Chuck Norris. But what one man can do is get a job, raise his kids, and pay his taxes. You always hear politicians on the campaign trail saying, “I will fight for you.” Is that what we want, someone to fight for us? Shouldn't we want to do our own fighting so that when we get our first house or start our own business, we can have the pride that we did it ourselves? Shouldn't we think, “Hey government, don't fight for me! Fight the red tape and retarded regulation so I can get to work.” Humans need challenges to overcome, just like a muscle needs resistance to grow. In a zero-gravity environment, an astronaut's muscles atrophy because there is no resistance. The government giving you a bunch of handouts and living your life for you is the equivalent of doing push-ups in outer space. Big government is like the void of space—it's massive, constantly expanding, and if we immerse ourselves in it, we'll simply wither away.

During the 2012 election I was stunned at how many people had the “audacity” to stand face-to-face with a candidate and say, “I'm twenty-two and I'm a student. As I look toward graduation and the job market, I want to know what you're going to do
for me
.” As if Obama was going to say, “Okay. Let me get your name. Right after this debate I'm going to personally make sure you're taken care of.” If it were me up there, I would say, “I'm not gonna do shit for you. But I am going to clear up the bureaucratic bullshit so
you
can do something for you. It's your choice, I'll clear the path. You decide if you want to stay on the couch and get high or if you want to get your shit together.”

And that narcissism, that “me, me, me” meme running amok in our country, is destroying us. Some of it is our pop culture, some of it is our parenting, but a lot of it is our politics. That's why a major plank in my campaign platform is bringing an end to the pervasive narcissism that has slowly destroyed our country. As you'll read, we've gone off the rails as a society and it all has to do with narcissism. But fear not, I have solutions.

I hope the above has served as a fair warning before you read this book. Many of you should prepare your ass cracks now for some panty bunching. Especially if you find yourself nodding every time you read a
Huffington Post
blog by Russell Simmons or Barbra Streisand.

In the past couple years I've been labeled as a conservative, race-baiting, gay-bashing purveyor of hate speech. But I was never considered conservative when I talked about raising your kids, focusing on education, and government waste in 1996, when I started hosting
Loveline
. Now the poles have gotten so far apart that anyone who isn't officiating a gay wedding at a Whole Foods is considered to be to the right of Rush Limbaugh. I didn't change, the country did. I didn't land on the right wing, the right wing landed on me. I'm just pragmatic. I'm not right wing, I'm just right. I know that nuclear power is less dangerous than coal mining; I know that the country would be better if dads, especially in certain communities, stuck around and raised their kids; I know that freebies from the government keep people stuck in a cycle of poverty and depression.

This has not done me any favors with many of the fine folk here in Los Angeles, the entertainment business in particular. There's a Hollywood Hipster club that likes to throw around a lot of terms like “school-to-prison pipeline” and “voter suppression” from high atop Mount Pious. This makes them all feel great while simultaneously accomplishing nothing. It doesn't fix a damn thing. Sure, they get to smoke weed at parties and talk about what a backward buffoon I am, but in the meantime they've brought no attention to the real issues and they've not taken one fucking step toward solving the problem that they pretend to care so dearly about. Every time someone says “Adam's a racist,” “Adam's a sexist,” “Adam's homophobic,” really what they're saying is “I'm not. I'm better than him.” All that finger-pointing is really about patting themselves on the back. Well, fine, call me an asshole and rip another bong hit. There's a certain freedom in hearing that people think you're an asshole but knowing that you're not. It's the opposite of the politician who's banging male prostitutes and knows he's gay, so he's constantly trotting out his family and wearing the flag lapel pin. He puts on a facade. I don't think I'm an asshole, so I don't need any facade. I can speak my mind and know that I don't hate any particular group or gender. I don't have time to hate any particular group or gender.

Ultimately I think the president shouldn't care about any particular class, generation, race, or gender. The president shouldn't even be a person. The job should go to a soulless, number-crunching computer that decides whether to fund a certain program or bomb a certain country based strictly on cold hard logic and numbers. But until Apple comes out with iPresident, I'll have to do. Over the next fifteen chapters (or if you're reading this on the toilet, twenty-eight shits) I'll lay out what each department of the federal government would look like in the Carolla administration. So chuck that Bible, get a
Juggs
magazine for me to put my hand on, and swear me in. I've some work to do and some people to piss off.

AN EXPLANATION OF GRAPHICS YOU
WILL FIND IN
PRESIDENT ME

Those
of you who enjoy my podcast know how much I love the self-satisfied sniff that blowhards do after they feel like they've made a really strong point or clever analogy. Well, I'm no exception. Throughout
President Me
you'll see this
to show how proud I am of what you've just read. If you hit that graphic and didn't dig what I just laid down, go back and read it again. It's really good.

And to signal when a new law, executive order, or policy is about to be mandated, you'll see this graphic.
I pulled this image out of my extensive collection of vintage gay erotica. I remember seeing it . . . perhaps I've said too much.

Let's get into this.

THE VICE PRESIDENT

Maybe
it's time we took a good long look at the vice presidency and eliminated it. Lyndon Johnson was the last VP we really needed. Now having one does more harm than good. These days the job is just sitting around having a few too many cocktails and putting your foot in your mouth while waiting for the president to get clipped.

I wonder every now and again if the vice president says to the president, “Ride with the top down, boss. Beautiful weather out there. Why don't you give a couple of the Secret Service guys a night off. They've earned it.” I mean, think about it. If you're the understudy, you've got to be hoping the lead falls off the stage on the opening night of
Pippin
. I'm not saying the VP is sitting around with a voodoo doll, but he's definitely the backup quarterback hoping the QB rolls an ankle.

But this change will have to come after my administration. I have plans for my vice president. I'm going to make my VP do all my shit work. I'll handle all the press conferences where I tell the people we killed a terrorist leader or that we passed some new popular legislation, but the veep is going to be the one telling you we're cutting the food-stamp program and writing depressing letters to the families of dead soldiers.

Since it's a fairly useless position, I'm going to try to get as much liberal street cred as possible and name Michelle Rodriguez as my vice president. She's Latina, female,
and
bisexual. Plus it'll give us a chance to talk about the
Fast and Furious
movies.

THE FEDERAL ELECTION
COMMISSION

Elections
go on way too long and cost way too much. I have a lot of ideas on how to make them better. It will start with my campaign, and upon taking office, I will institute these new polices for all future elections.

First, let's focus on the fund-raising. Obama came to L.A. about ninety times during the 2012 election, rattling the can in front of Spielberg, Will Smith, Streisand, etc. And every time he did, the entire town ground to a halt. Streets shut down and traffic came to a standstill every time George Clooney dropped a nickel. I have a solution that is win-win-win. When I run for my second term and come to L.A. to hit up Kimmel and my other Hollywood friends,
Air Force One
will land at LAX and just stay there. I'll park it right on the tarmac and have my fund-raiser ON
Air Force One
. The celebrities would get a thrill out of it, and probably drop a couple extra shekels for the bragging rights of saying they took a dump on
Air Force One
. I wouldn't even have to get off the plane, and, most importantly, the citizens of Los Angeles could drive on their fucking freeways without my motorcade.

Beyond that, I dictate that how candidates raise money is their own business. If you have one corporate sugar daddy who is going to fund your whole campaign, I have no beef with that. That's what I'll do. You hear all the time about a candidate who kicked in $80 million of his own money and lost. If I put more than three hundred bucks into my campaign and lost, I'd go on a killing spree.

That's something you never see during a campaign—a sore loser. Whenever a candidate steps out of the race, they always take the high ground. “Everyone involved in my campaign should be proud, and to all of my supporters, you fought the good fight. But Senator Smith ran a great race and will do a fine job.” Fuck that. From now on I demand that the candidate say what's really on his mind in the moment during that concession speech. “You cunts. You let me down, Iowa. I came to your godforsaken state, spent a shitload of my own money, and for what? To lose to that closet case, Senator Smith? You know he's a homo, right? This is bullshit. Not that my dipshit campaign manager helped. He was too busy banging the interns. And my wife behind me? She didn't support me at all. That icy bitch is drunk right now. She never had my back. Though I would like to thank my mistress, who's over there pretending to make a documentary about me.”

On to the debates. I don't like them. They feel too canned, too prepared. The candidates are just too ready with their stock answers and question dodges. And no one watching has their opinion swayed by debates. All those debates do is reinforce the talking points that have been fed to each side.

Again, I have a solution—surprise debates! We shouldn't tell the candidates when and where they're going to be. The whole thing should be off the cuff. The presidency is a job where you have to think on your feet. We should be able to see this in action. How great would it have been if they had told Romney he was going to a fund-raiser and Obama that he was going to a photo op with a business owner and when they walked into the building there was a capacity crowd and we forced them to sit down with George Stephanopoulos and explain the differences in their health care plans? This is something I will excel in when I run for my second term. That's what you need in a president. Having all that shit prepared like candidates do for debates would be like if you went to an improv show and they asked for an occupation and a relationship, someone shouted out “crane operator” and “father and son,” and the troupe responded, “Okay, we're gonna go backstage, choreograph and rehearse a scene, and we'll be back in a few days.”

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