It appears that Governors Mitt Romney and Rick Perry have raised their rivalry to a new level during last night’s Republican Debate.
They might do best to absorb a lesson from history—one I learned the hard way in the election of 1912: One can wind up choking on one’s own venom.
Teddy Roosevelt and I stoked such a bitter rivalry in ’12, and as we attacked each other, that dull, wooden Woodrow Wilson sailed right past us both to snare the election. Historians, apparently, have vindicated Wilson. Historians have never seen his teeth after dinner.
Of course, I never experienced Wilson’s presidency firsthand, thanks to the fact that I seemed to have misplaced myself for a hundred years on that fateful day of his inauguration. But that’s neither here nor there. I am back and in the race today, disentangled from this strange, modern GOP, and ready to be the third-party dark horse! The Taft Party shall lead where all these Romneys and Perrys will falter! Let them debate! I will unite!
Now if I could only unite the buttons and buttonholes of this ludicrously tight waistcoat.