Dear Igor,

My grandpa is in the garage cleaning out his combination orgone box/fallout shelter. He says that George W. Bush is planning to use his last gasp of presidential breath to get even with all the liberals, workers, minorities, secularists, environmentalists, journalists, economists, scientists, entertainers, politicians, psychologists, foreigners, veterans, gays, retirees, Muslims–in other words, just about everybody in the world–who opposed, criticized, ridiculed or rejected him. Grandpa says he’s locking himself in his shelter and not coming out until Obama is safely in office. I say he is way paranoid. Bush is an addled, but well-meaning incompetent, who will go quietly to his brush pile in Crawford.
Who is right?
Realist,
Verity, Pa.

Dear Realist,

Grandfather knows best, while you, my way gullible friend, prove the axiom that a realist is someone who thinks everyone is as crudely obvious as he is.

Put yourself in Bush’s place. (If you can accomplish this relatively simple task of empathic imagination.) For the last eight years everything you’ve done has been horribly wrong. You have been exposed and embarrassed time and time again. Your malaprops and misspeaking, your non-grasp of major issues, your pariah status among world leaders, your ritual shunning by John McCain have all been revealed in the harsh glare of the global spotlight. Scholars soberly estimate that you will be considered the worst president in history.

Would you not harbor thoughts of bloody revenge?

But this is nothing compared to the battering you’ve taken from within your own camp. Since the early 20th. Century when the Walker-Bush dynasty joined with the Rockefellers and the Dulles brothers in league with Prussian industrialists, Saudi rulers, and British bankers to control the flow of oil and finance, no leader, including Herbert Hoover, has done as much harm to the cause as you have.

Who will cut you into sweetheart deals? Ignore your mulligans? Eat your three alarm chile?

And it all started so well. Given what you constantly called “political capital” by the 2004 victory you began advancing your domestic agenda under cover of back-door dealing, Rove-like obfuscation and officialese.

Your unfunded No Child Left Behind was an attempt to push voucher schools at the expense of the public educational system which over the years, has produced the major opponents of your class conspiracy.

Your legislation, exempting 6.5 million workers from collecting overtime, was an attack on the trade unions, who are the only defenders of the wealth-producing classes. Its intended effect was to impoverish workers and make them easier to exploit

You passed a law making it prohibitive for an individual to declare bankruptcy. You said too many people were making fraudulent misuse of the existing statutes. But statistics showed that 50% of bankruptcies were caused by inability to pay medical expenses and the 40% by long term unemployment in outsourced industries. Only 3.6% were alleged to be fraudulent.

You bailed out your blood brothers in finance-perhaps hoping for a cushy post-Presidential job- but have refused to allow one penny of the $700 billion to guarantee delinquent mortgages on the grounds that people (not bankers, who are presumably aliens) should have to pay for their mistakes. You’ve given AIG $85 billion fix and just shot them up again for $40 billion more. But not a penny for the auto industry. You say Detroit shouldn’t be rewarded for years of mismanagement, which you define as paying workers too much in salaries, pensions and health care. If Detroit goes bankrupt the union contracts will be inoperative and one of the most cherished dreams of your class—the destruction of the UAW—will be fulfilled.

Now it has all turned to ashes. The popular revulsion against you has led to the election of a man who will overturn every one of your overturnings. Not since FDR has a leader been given such a mandate to attack wealth and privilege. The CEO as hero will cease to be a cultural icon. No more “workaholic tycoons” on the cover of Time Magazine.

Your own class has turned against you. You went, scrapbook in hand, to one university after another, looking for a home for your Presidential Library, which after Cheney has censored it, will consist of a few Christmas cards and Laura’s recipe for Hopping John. You were turned down everywhere until daddy’s arm-twisting in Dallas got you a grudging admission to SMU. But even in the center of Bush power, a committee of professors, rose up to condemn the library.

How does it feel to be on your own?… A complete unknown? You can answer Dylan’s question: Not great!

Now, it’s your turn. “Little Georgie tries so hard,” your dad, the baseball hero said, watching you muff one grounder after another.

Well now Little Georgie, burning with humiliation, is going to smash his tormentors as hard as he can. Look for vindictive lame duck rule changes. For presidential pardons to be granted to the most odious corporate felons. Do not rule out an “inadvertent nuclear accident,” or “sudden, inexplicable eruption” in the watersheds of NY, LA and Chicago of chemicals which cause hair loss and impotence.

We should have a nationwide alert: All infants and elderly people: everyone with a health issue; teachers, union members, aw hell, everybody…

Stay indoors and boil your drinking water until January 21.

Inside, Henry Kissinger, 86 regaled the Dalai Lama, 74, at one table, while Rupert Murdoch, 79, hosted Queen Elizabeth, 82 and Nelson Mandela, 92, at another.

George H. W. Bush, 83 and Saudi King Abdullah, 84 waited impatiently at the door for Pope Benedict, 81, to finish his spumoni.

“Don’t dawdle, Your Holiness,” Bush said to an approving grunt from his dinner companion. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

No, it wasn’t Per Se, Mamofuku, The Waverly Inn or Del Posto. This line of luminaries was waiting to get into a cramped, five-tabled, converted candy store on Manhattan Ave. in Greenpoint called “Durg’s Elixir”. Dinner at Durg’s averages about $1000 a person, excluding wine. But owner Efraim Durg’s customers think it’s more than worth it.

Why?

Because the speciality of the house is a tiny aquatic, four-legged animal called a tardigrade.

And the tardigrade just might hold the secret to eternal life.

“It sure saved my life,” says Durg with a smile of relief.

Only two months ago, Durg’s health food bistro was going belly up.

“People were losing faith in vitamins and organics,” he says. “They were getting fat and flatulent, and weren’t feeling any better.”

Then he came across a small item in an obscure science journal.

“It said that only one living organism on earth could survive in outer space without protection,” he says. “The tardigrade.”

After exhaustive research, Durg realized he had stumbled upon something new. “I had discovered the philosopher’s stone of nutrition,” he says.

The tardigrade, an invertebrate animal that varies from .05 to 1.5 millimeters in length, is considered by scientists to be the hardiest living creature on earth. Members of its more than 1000 known species have been found in the freezing Himalayan peaks 18,000 feet above sea level and 12,000 feet below on the ocean floor. According to Wikipedia, tardigrades “can survive in extreme environments that would kill any other animal…Some can survive temperatures close to absolute zero or as high as 303 degrees Fahrenheit. Others have gone nearly a decade without water in the vacuum conditions of outer space.”

Tardigrades can enter a “cryobiotic state” in which their organism shows no visible sign of life and all metabolic activity ceases. They can stay that way for decades and can be revived to full life and reproductive power with one drop of water.

“There is no way of estimating the age of the typical tardigrade ,” Durg said. “They could be as old as the earth itself.”

In September ’07, the Economist, reports, researchers from Sweden’s Kristianstad University aboard the European Space Agency’s Foton spacecraft, released representatives of each of the tardigrade’s 1000 species into deep space.

“It would have been tough to put them all in little nano space suits,” Durg says.

Luckily, that wasn’t necessary. The tardigrades went into a state of suspended animation and survived the temperatures, the vacuum conditions and the high doses of UVB and UVB radiation. When they returned to earth they resumed their normal lives of crawling along mosses and lichens, stopping occasionally to clutch each other in libidinal frenzy.

But life for the slow-moving invertebrates would never be the same.

“Tardigrades produce a sugar called trehalose just before they go into a state of suspended animation,” Durg says. “Trehalose protects them against conditions of heat and dehydration, plus invasion by foreign bacteria and viruses. They also generate a large protein which rebuilds their cell structures.” He stops with an astonished look. “On the molecular level they are invulnerable!”

What if the tardigrade’s protective powers could be transferred to human beings? Durg thought.

“What if tardiigrades were the greatest health food ever invented?”

He began experimenting. “I got a few wet branches in Prospect Park and made my first harvest,” he says. “Imagine my delight when, the tardigrades turned out to be pleasantly chewy like calamari.”

Moistened with egg yolk and sprinkled with panko the tardigrades made a light, pleasant cutlet. Durg adapted other recipes, producing Tardigrada Parmigiana, Spicy Tarigrada Roll, Spaghetii and Tarigrada Balls…

He reopened with a hard sell slogan: “Eat at Durg’s, Live Forever…”

Response was immediate. Diners came away reporting new vigor.

“I feel so good I might start bothering Barb again,” George H.W. Bush said.

With a six month waiting list, Durg has to be brutal. The other night John McCain exploded when told he couldn’t have a table.

“It’s your duty as an American to seat me,” he screamed at Durg. “Do you want Sarah Palin to be president?”

At that, the entire restaurant arose in unison.

William Shatner, 78, was the first to the door. “Come back, Senator,” he pleaded. “You can have my table.”

DENTIST DUNS MCCAIN

PHOENIX, Ariz, Sept. 26…Dr. Irwin Zahnsaggler says he’s “sick and tired” of John McCain’s excuses.

The Phoenix endodontist began doing root canal on the Republican candidate three months ago.

“I told John there would be discomfort at first, but it had to be done,” Zahnsaggler says. “He laughed and said after what he had been through a little toothache would be nothing.”

But, after the first session, McCain jumped up, holding a tissue to his swollen jaw.

“I feel like Dustin Hoffman in Marathon Man,” he told Zahnsaggler. “We should have used this technique in Guantanamo…”

From then on McCain began canceling appointments.

“When the Russians invaded Georgia he said he had to be at his post because we are all Georgians,” Zahnsaggler says. “Then when the Large Hadron Collider was activated he said he was going to Geneva because we are all protons. Last week he canceled to go to Washington because he said we are all homeowners, especially Cindy. He just called and said he can’t make it today because he has to debate Obama…I realized then that he would do anything to avoid going to the dentist.”

Zahnsaggler says he’s going to start charging McCain for canceled visits ” because we are all Americans.”

A D.C. TRIANGLE?

WASHINGTON, D.C…Tempers flared yesterday when Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson made an unscheduled visit to the Democratic caucus.

The party leadership was debating a response to the Republicans newest bailout plan when Paulson walked in.

House Majority Leader Nancy Pelosi greeted him with a smile. “Mr. Secretary, is that a bazooka in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?”

At which point, House Financial Services Committee Chairman Barney Frank jumped up, snarling: “Back off, bitch, I saw him first!”

Later in the day when Paulson’s plan was rejected by both parties, a “blogwag” opined that, “Paulson’s bazooka has turned into a derringer.”

And the Treasury Secretary couldn’t get anyone to return his calls.

BUSH BLAMES INITIALS FOR WALL ST. CRISIS

WASHINGTON, D.C… During a tense emergency meeting on the bailout yesterday, staff members noticed President George W. Bush (B.A. Yale, MBA, Harvard) twitching impatiently. Then, while Secretary Paulson was explaining how CDO swaps had caused billions in losses, he erupted:

“You can’t run a company by swapping CEO’s,” he said. “Let one man stay on the job. Be accountable like me.”

“That’s CDO’s, George,” Dick Cheney said soothingly. “Collateralized Debt Obligations.”

“Too many damn initials,” Bush grumbled. “That’s why nobody knows what’s goin’ on.” Then, he challenged the crowd. “I’ll bet none of you smartasses knows what pdf stands for…” There was an awkward silence…”How about url?” Bush said. “A lifetime supply of high test to anybody who can tell me what that means…”

Later in the day when caffeine and fatigue were beginning to wear and Fed Chairman Bernanke was droning on in his patented monotone, Bush whispered irritably to Paulson:

“Does he know what he’s talking about?”

“Yes, Mr. President,” Paulson whispered back. “He’s an expert on the Depression.”

“Hell, we all know about depression,” Bush said. “I have days when Laura has to bring me a Twinkie and a double Carnation Instant Breakfast just so I can get out of bed.”

Paulson turned to hide his pained look. “No sir, I meant the Great Depression of the ’30′s.”

“Well, if he’s been depressed that long, he should get help,” Bush said. “I’ve got a good man in Dallas, Doctor Kopfshtumpfer…Cured my daddy of the yips.”

Durg, CEO of Durgometrics, a hedge fund that specializes in high risk bets, is advising his clients to back John McCain to win the Presidency for one reason only—he’s short.

“Issues come and go, but over the last ten years one variable has remained constant throughout the world —the winner is always short.”

An informal survey shows that no elected world leader is over 5 ft. 9 in. and most are hovering around 5t.6.

Russian Prime Minister Putin is 5:5. His anointed heir apparent Dmitry Medvedev is exactly the same height. French President Sarkozy is 5:6. German Prime MInister Angela Merkel is 5:6 in her “practical” shoes. Former Japanese Prime Minister Fukuda is 5:6. Italian Prime Minister Berlusconi is so short that he actually brags about being 5:7. British PM Gordon Brown claims 5:10, but often looks shorter than former PM Blair, who seems no more than an inch taller than President George W. Bush, who is hovering around the 5:9 mark depending on his shoes, but in photographs with Putin seems to be closer to the Russian’s 5:5.

“The G8 meeting this year looked like a Munchkin call for
“The Wizard of Oz,” Durg says.

At the cocktail reception, the leaders spent a lot of time on their toes, measuring themselves against each other and trying to rise to new heights.

“Have you noticed, I’m the little guy in my family,” Bush told Berlusconi. “And I’m 5:11.”

Berlusconi repressed a sneer at this obvious exaggeration. “Satirists describe me as a dwarf,” he said. “But I’m 5:7 without lifts.”

Bush smiled down at the top of his head.

“Well. I’m taller than Putin or Sarkozy,” Berlusconi said.

In the group photo all avoided Chinese President Hu Jintao, a virtual giant at 5:10.

McCain at five-seven. with broad shoulders and short arms fits the winner’s profile to a tee, Durg says. But there are more amazing similarities.

McCain is the shortest person in his immediate family, several inches below his dad and grand dad and only an inch or two above his 94 year old mom. He is the same height at his wife Cindy, but she towers over him in her heels, which may be why she is always photographed sitting down.

President Bush is dwarfed by his dad and brother at 6:3. Even his mom, Babs, looks down on him. His wife Laura has to wear flats and stand on the bottom step to look him in the eye.

Sarkozy’s wife, singer-model Carla Bruni, plooms over him at 5:9 and 1/2.

Putin has never been photographed with his wife, but rumors link him with a diminutive Russian gymnast, who hits the mark at 4:11.

“Power is trending short,” Durg says. “In every election we studied, the little guy won over a much taller opponent-Bush-Kerry, Sarkozy-Segolene Royal, his taller female rival, Berlusconi over Prodi, etc.”

The US was founded and led by tall men for most of its history. George Washington was measured at 6:3 and 1/2 on his death bed, which made him a pituitary oddity in Colonial America. Andrew Jackson was 6:1 and 1/2. Abe Lincoln was 6:4, more than a foot taller than his opponent, Stephen Douglas.

“If that election were held today the short, fat, rich, political insider Douglas would win in a landslide,” Durg says.

Durg doubts that the trend will reversed in 2008. “Look at Julius Caesar, Napoleon, Mussolini, Hitler, Stalin,,,Short men tend to hold on to power once they get it.”

Barrack Obama at 6:2 is well-aware that his height is the biggest hurdle he faces to the Presidency,” Durg says, and he has been trying to lower the bar. Recent statements from his campaign had him at 6:1/ and 1/2. “Expect that to shrink to 6 feet even by election night,” Durg says. At the upcoming debates his podium will be raised to his chin to make him look shorter.

Michelle has gone below the 6 foot mark to 5:11. But she still has to double over to speak to the ladies on “The View.”

“This isn’t the year of the tall person,” Durg says. “If the Democrats really wanted to make history they should have nominated Gary Coleman.”

Or is something more sinister at work?

This is the question that Igor Yopsvoyamatsky posed last night. Speaking to a hostile audience at the Kosciusko Bridge and Polka Club he accused the Democrats of deliberately sabotaging Obama’s campaign.

“Reverend Al Sharpton, HBO movie “Recount,” New Yorker Magazine cover…Just a few examples of plot to bring down Obama,” he shouted over the jeers and heckles from the predominantly Democratic crowd.

“Make no mistake,” he said, “Obama is big threat to transparty oligarchy that really rules America…”

“What is a transparty oligarchy anyway?” someone shouted.

“It is term coined by Eastern European scholar Tom Gallagher,” Yopsvoyamatsky said. “It means heads of so-called opposing parties who really work together to maintain status quo for billionaire rulers of so-called Democracy.” He pointed to a heckler. “McCain is non-factor. This election is Obama against transparty oligarchy.“

“Why is Obama a threat?” someone shouted.

“Because he will bring new demographic into electoral process–African-Americans, Hispanics, immigrants, gamers, slackers, how you say playuhs. The rich see that their housekeepers, their gardeners, even their stupid over-medicated children will have a say in how this country is run. They will never permit this.

“Party leaders have been afraid of him since he appeared on the scene,”Yopsvoyamatsky said. “Soon after his election to Illinois State Senate he was offered professorship at University of Chicago if he left politics. They even offered to appoint his wife head of school’s legal clinic.”

The crowd was quieted by this revelation. Finally, a man in a dashiki decorated with photos of Obama jumped up.

“Yeah, well how is Al Sharpton is part of a plot against Obama?” he sneered.

“He is a tool like you pamyawt,” Yopsvoyamatsky sneered back. “CNN, allegedly pro Obama media, always has Sharpton and other black talking heads on to defend Obama. Never nice white, gray-haired white lady like Obama’s grandmother, but Sharpton, who white people hate from notorious Tawana Brawley episode.” He winked at a young blonde woman in cut offs and a tight fitting “Change America” T-shirt “This is subliminal plot to frighten white voters, no?”

“I guess so,” she said with a tentative smile. “But why the movie, “Recount?”

Yopsvoyamatsky leered down at her. “Very astute question. This movie, made by Obama supporters purports to be truthful account.”

“It is true,” someone shouted.

” I cook a pot of truth every morning,” Yopsvoyamatsky said, and turned to the blonde. “Stalin said that.”

“Who?” she asked

“Exactly,” he said, and turned back to the crowd. “Recount is clever whitewash of James Baker, good friend of HBO boss, Time Warner, CEO and Republican loyalist Richard D. Parsons, who put him twice on cover of Time Magazine. It portrays Baker as clever, charming man working within system, instead of ruthless subverter who brought issue to Supreme Court where he had already fixed the outcome. It shows Democrats to be weak, divided…Not a good party for power, no?”

“I guess,” the young blonde said with a shrug. “I really don’t know.”

Yopsvoyamatsky squeezed in next to her. “You have an open mind. I like that in a woman…”

A You Tuber stuck a Camcorder in his face. “Anyway, the New Yorker cover is ancient history…”

Yopsvoyamatsky pushed him away. “Maybe to you, pascudniak, but not too pop cultural establishment, which is terrified at prospect of Obama…”

“Really?” the young blonde said.

Yopsvoyamatsky put his arm around her. “Perceptive inquiry, my dear…You see Obama is not funny. This is big problem for culture. If you try to make joke it falls flat or someone calls you racist pig. Not good for Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert. Comedy needs controversy, it needs to be in the opposition. That’s why there is no Daily Show in Pinsk. Culture establishment looks at eight years with Obama. Boring, self-righteous time.No jokes, no ratings. They are back to playing Comedy Castle in downtown Peoria. Better with McCain. Senile jokes, incontinent jokes, Viagra and Metamucil…”

The blonde sucked her knuckle with a puzzled look. “So what can Obama do to win?”

Yopsvoyamatsky patted her knee. “. He must convince transparty oligarchs that he is one of them. He wears a yarmulka in Israel… only fair. He gives immunity to telecom conglomerates so they can deny civil liberties to citizens…better. He tells black people it is all their fault…excellent!”

“So maybe he is a transported autopark,” the blonde says.

“Brilliant synthesis, my dear,” Yopsvoyomatsky said. “I have power point in my room. Want to see?”

“I guess,” she said.

He walked behind her, nodding appreciatively. “You know you are very clever for an American girl. You want some Vitamin Water…?”

“Give us your position on a woman’s right to orgasm.”

She was referring to an amendment to the Ecuadoran Constitution proposed by legislator Maria Soledad Vela giving women the legal right to “enjoy sexual happiness.”

The amendment was hooted down in the Ecuadoran Constituent Assembly. Opposition member Leonard Viteri accused Soledad Vela of trying to “decree orgasm by law.” An editorial in the Quito daily El Celibe said it would cause a “rash of lawsuits by unsatisfied women.” Columnist Jorge Pata-Pequena complained that her amendment would mean a “life in prison” for men, condemning them “to exhaust themselves in the service of domineering, frigid emasculators.”

Soledad Vela, an attractive blonde, went on Ecuadoran TV to explain that she only wanted to change the image of a woman as “passive partner in intercourse and a vessel for carrying babies.” She said a woman’s right to “enjoy sex in a free, fair and more open society” would be a boon to all.

Soledad Vela’s blog posts and You Tubes excited hot debate throughout South America. Her digital efforts also stimulated feminists around the world. Female legislators in the UK, Belarus and New Zealand, have enlarged her amendment to include provisions making inappropriate remarks like “you’ve got the rag on,” and “what you need is a good roll in the hay” misdemeanors subject to civil penalty.

Now Schildkraut has thrust “the right to orgasm” to a prominent place in her platform.

“This is the next generation of woman’s issues,” she said today. “We are concerned with body image. Making sure that the underweight ideal does not drive women to anorexia, amphetamine addiction and destructive surgery. We want to prod men into accepting their responsibilities in the sex act…”

She was interrupted by Efraim Durg, candidate of the Gambler’s Rights Party. Surrounded by supporters carrying signs reading SLAVES TO ECSTASY and DON’T PAY LIP SERVICE TO FEMALES, Durg shouted: “It is a known fact that the female orgasm is a myth.”

“It is to you,” she shot back.

Stunned, Durg searched for a comeback. “Well…Some of these women shouldn’t have the right to have sex.”

“When was the last time you had sex?” Schildkraut demanded.

With a smug look at his supporters, Durg replied: “This morning.”

Schildkraut waited until their lusty cheers subsided and said: “I meant with another person…”

“Oh yeah,” Durg shouted. “Oh yeah, bitch…”

“Good one,” his supporters cried.

Later in the day, a reporter caught Barrack Obama between fundraising appearances and asked him for his position on the female orgasm.

With a patronizing smile, Obama chucked her under the chin. “Let me get back to you on that, sweetie,” he said.

John McCain was making a major speech on the Middle East at the Altekvetcher Home for the Aged in West Palm Beach, Florida. As he struggled to make himself heard above the feedback of the hearing aids, a reporter approached.

“Senator McCain, what is your position on the female orgasm?” she asked.

McCain turned, brimming with sincerity. “A cornerstone of my health plan is to rid females of all unwanted organisms…

“Not organisms, John,” his wife Cindy said, and whispered in his ear.

McCain blushed. “Oh, oh sorry…” And turned back to the reporter. “Let me look in the Navy Marriage Manual…I’ll get right back to you.”

That’s what people are saying all over the US. Or at least in front of Stash’s Kielbassa in the Greenpoint section of Brooklyn, N.Y. where neuroconomist, Efraim Durg has been conducting an informal poll since the primary season began.

“People are confused about who the best man might be,” Durg says. “So they say let the richest man win. Let’s give the White House to the candidate who raises a billion dollars first.”

Durg, CEO of Give The Schmucks A Nudge, a Behavioral Marketing think tank and consultancy, says that Americans have reached “a saturation level” of cynicism.

“Disillusion cuts across party and demographic lines,” he says. “Nobody believes in anything anymore.”

Durg says the recent Democratic primary was decided by money, pure and simple. ” Research shows that 67% of the news stories were about who was raising the most money,” he says. “Candidates were too close on the issues to decide. But Obama’s numbers soared when he outraised Hillary by four million dollars in one week. And Hillary was doomed when she lent eleven million dollars of her own money to her campaign. ”

Durg says studies verify that people associate fundraising with sexuality. “You can’t get off if you can’t get the money. You’re the guy or girl who goes home alone.”

In a recent poll with a 4% margin of error Durg asked voters to choose which of three campaign promises they would believe:

1. I will bring the troops home from Iraq.

2. I will make the US energy independent.

3. I will raise more money than my opponent.

The response was overwhelming, Durg says. “78% of the people said they would believe answer 3.”

This is a paradigm shift away from issue-oriented elections. and “calls for a revolutionary reappraisal of how we elect a president in this country.”

“It’s called a race so let’s make it one,” Durg says. “Forget what you’ve already got in the kitty. As of Labor Day let’s start from scratch. We’ll let a respected accounting firm like Price Waterhouse keep the books. On November 4th, instead of counting votes we’ll count money. And we’ll have our winner.”

Durg has done research for Obama’s economic advisers, but says his numbers speak for themselves. Still, he admits that Obama may have a slight edge over McCain.

“Obama loves money,” he said. “McCain is ambivalent about it.”

Phrenologic measurements show that Obama’s face actually expands when he discusses money. His eyes widen and his normally impassive demeanor becomes almost animated. Sophisticated vocal measurements also show that his voice goes up a few decibels as well.

“The other night when he said he had some donors who could write big enough checks to cover Hillary’s campaign debt his metrics were off the chart,” Durg says. “He was almost reverent.”

McCain’s metrics on the other hand show deep ambivalence, Durg says.

“McCain never had to sweat the rent,” Durg says. “In the military he had three hots and a cot. He then married a wealthy woman and was set for life. This is why he manifests deep-seated feelings of inadequacy when discussing economic issues. His phrenologic profile shows his face shrinking. His eye rolls increase and his voice goes down a few decibels. ”

Durg’s psychometrics have McCain making revealing slips in which he seems to identify his wife with the economy.

“In a speech to the American Legion he was quoted as saying: ‘I will veto any beer that comes with birthmarks,” Durg says. “He quickly revised that, saying he would veto any bill that came with earmarks. But later in response to a question about offshore drilling he said: ‘Offshore wives will increase production by a million kegs a day…’ And had to be taken offstage to compose himself.”

Although Durg claims to be “an objective social scientist,” he responds with a nudge when asked who would win the race to a billion.

“I think Obama has a head start.”

So says Efraim Durg, president of Shmatte Statements, a design firm that specializes in politically-themed clothing. Three pregnant workers have died since Durg put his Chinese factories on twenty-four shifts, churning out the millions of units he predicts he will sell at the convention and throughout the election season.

“We’ve invented an anti-advertising strategy that will become the standard for all future campaigns,” he says. “Instead of tee shirts with boring slogans like “Hope for a Change,” or “Get on the Truth Local,” we offer an eye-catching garment that also provides ammunition for political debates.”

Durg says his “eureka moment” came while watching coverage of Obama’s latest decision to forgo public financing for his campaign.

“The phrase flip flop kept being repeated,” he says. “At first I wondered why Obama was so strongly identified with a piece of casual foot-ware. Then I realized that this could be the hook for a revolutionary fashion line.”

Durg describes his Obama flip flops as “walking metaphors.” The straps have pictures of the young Barry Obama going right through the Harvard years to the present Barack Obama incarnation.

Durg swells with pride as he describes what he calls “the sole iconography.”

“On the left sole we have Obama’s old friends–the Reverends Wright and Pfleger, Hamas biggie, Zahar, Tony Rezco, Jimmy Carter, etc. On the right sole we have a large caricature of his new best friend, Ehud Olmert..

“Left and right, get it?” he asks with a nudge and a twinkle.

But Durg is proudest of his shorts. Made out of silk like basketball gear they have two sides.

“On the flip side, the front we have some early statements,” Durg says. “You know, like ‘I will accept public financing,’ or ‘Nafta benefits all Americans,’ something like American Jews have an excessive concern for Israeli security or Oil companies must pay a windfall profits tax. Then you turn to the flop side on the back and you see Public financing is a way for Republicans to game the system or Jerusalem will be 100% Israeli, and maybe something catchy like Nafta Shmafta.”

Durg has left room on the shorts for more flips and flops which he will sell as iron ons. “We can ship ‘em almost as fast as he can say ‘em,” he says.

But Durg isn’t satisfied with half the market. On the drawing board is a McCain line, which he will break out at the Democratic convention in Denver.

“We start with a pair of orthopedic shoes with three inch lifts for McCain’s debates with Obama,” he says. with a visionary gleam in his eye. “Then a pair of plain blue serge trousers with panels, front and back. When you open the panels you see a pair of adult diapers-inscribed with some of McCain’s priceless statements. I’m thinking We’ll be in Iraq for a hundred years or The surge is working or the classic Bomb Bomb Bomb Bomb Bomb Iran.

“But here’s the beauty part,” Durg says, hugging himself with glee. “When you spray a little water on the diapers it activates the invisible ink and you see the stuff McCain wishes he hadn’t said. You know like Nobody leaves this plane until I get my Flomax or I think I mean: The work is surging, plus something like CINDY, YOU F…..G C..T and ending with another Beach Boy classic, You’ll Have Fun Fun Fun When Daddy Gives You Tax Breaks Today.”