In case you missed it this week because you were busy doing something more important like counting your blessings or staring intently into Anthony Weiner’s underwear, there was a Big Rift in the Unofficial GOP 2016 Field.
Kentucky Sen. Rand Paul called New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie the “king of bacon” – and he meant it to sting.
Rand Paul later withdrew from the fray, extending a traditional olive branch – the time-honored Beer The Next Time You’re In Washington. But Christie didn’t take it.
The New Jersey governor scoffed that he has no intention to be in Washington any time soon, because Washington is a vile pit of poisonous isolationist loons who wouldn’t know sound policy if it bit them on the ankle, and he is from Jersey where Real People Do Real Things, and he is too busy maintaining his uncannily high popularity levels to duck into that malodorous swamp. He phrased it differently, but, because he is Chris Christie, not THAT differently.
Look, I understand that such feuds are necessary for the health of the party. The question of government spending and isolationism vs. engagement overseas — the more healthy debate, the merrier! But maybe they should keep bacon out of it.
Doesn’t Rand Paul realize the mistake he’s made? “King of Bacon”? You’re trying to insult someone? Yes, I realize this was the pork spending kind of bacon, but when does context ever matter with these quips? It’s not just the Republican Party where dubbing someone the King of Bacon might actually improve his standing. It’s the whole country. It’s the whole Internet.
Everyone loves bacon. Show me someone who doesn’t like bacon, and I will show you someone who is lying. It’s one of those Internet Popular things, and when you are Internet Popular that means that people wake up in the dark 2 a.m. watches of the night, alone, and decide to Google you. Then it turns out that everyone else was looking for the same thing, and it spirals quickly out of control. Once we realize we are not alone, we become menaces. We generate Man vs. Food, bacon memes, and pictures of cats with bacon taped to them. Nothing can stop us. Bacon, kittens, videos of Kim Kardashian’s personal life, and lists of Things That Were Great About the ’90s. These are the secret fires of our souls.
If he’d been the King of Big Gulp, we could write it off. That’s a moniker only a Sarah Palin could love. But “King of Bacon”? That’s a badge of honor. Next time, Rand might as well just call him “King of ’90s Nostalgia” or “Emperor of Cat GIFs” or “Lord Buzzfeed.”
“King of Bacon”? It’s the sort of offhand remark that could catapult him into national office. He’ll rise to the presidency on a tidal wave of public acclamation.
Whom would you rather have a beer with? Rand Paul or the King of Bacon? These are the inane things we base our presidential picks on, after all. (Here, to help with your decision, a whole video of Sen. Paul insisting that the name is not an Ayn Rand thing, but a nickname from his wife (“Even though both of us are fans of Ayn Rand… But I am a big fan of Ayn Rand and read all of her novels.” Also, he likes Dostoevsky!)
All I am saying is, if this is Rand Paul’s idea of fighting words, it’s not going to be a very long primary.