The Wright Man in 2000

By Benjamin Oren | Wednesday, March 10, 1999

Note to Readers: An unnamed source from Parkhurst dropped this under the door of the office of The Dartmouth Review. We feel that it is our responsibility to the Dartmouth community—and the United States of America—to publish it in its entirety- TDR

MEMORANDUM

To: James Wright
From: James Carville
Re: Campaign 2000

Hey ya' Jimbo!

Just wanted to drop a line to tell you that I like the way you're handlin' this whole Greek thing (and I don't mean the gyros, if you know what I'm sayin'). It's very underhanded. It's so Machaevelli.

And it has everything that we're gonna need in the next year. We've got leaks to the press. We've got blank faced lies to your constituency. We've got a right-wing conspiracy that's gonna try and keep you down. Hey, we've even got a winning tag line — 'The end of the Greek system as we know it.'

You know what? I like it. Its catchy; the whole thing is just catchy.

You know what else? It reminds me of another chubby white-haired liberal that I know and love— You see where I'm going with this? If not, then let me spell it out for you right now.

You, my friend, is what the people of this great country need right now. You're a nuevo-Woodrow Wilson with the grandfatherly good looks of Dave Thomas. You've risen the ranks, fought the caste system, and won. How many of your compadres can say that they've gone from coal miner to academic to gender crusader? I know I sure can't and I bet no one else can neither.

You're like the lone ducky left after duck season is finished. You're the only ducky left out there to fly south, and fly south who will— but I ain't saying you should fly all the way down to Tallahassee and set your little ducky tail feathers down in no little ducky swamp pond, oh no siree!

I'm suggesting that you drop your little ducky feet down on the Potomac. I'm suggesting that you waddle your little ducky self down Pennsylvania Avenue and don't stop until you hit that giant frat house at 1600 and turn it into your own little residential nesting space.

President Wright of Dartmouth College, I'm suggesting that you become President Wright of the United States! Come on! The people will eat you up faster than Big Bubba Clinton can gobble up my grandmamma's BBQ ribs on the fourth of July, ya' hear me? What you're doing to Dartmouth is what that midget on Ally McBeal did to those office bathrooms and America loves that show!

And when I'm down with you, America is gonna love you too.

With both me and the Democratic National Committee behind you, we're gonna help break up another elitist group of white good ol' boys that has been driving our country into the ground for the past twenty years (no offense to the Kennedys that is)— the GOP.

You drooling yet? I know I sure am! Now listen up, 'cause here's the plan:

I was running some ideas past Mary last night and we both agree that you should skip the Iowa Caucus. Some analysts might believe that not running in the nation's first testing area for the presidential nomination as political suicide, but we think you can do perfectly well without it. You've got big feet in this race Jimbo and we feel that you can walk right over those corn-fed hicks without even giving them a say in the matter. You seem pretty good at that, if you know what I'm sayin'. Anyway, Iowa isn't that friendly to Dartmouth presidents, considering how much they hate your good pal Jimmy O. over there.

And while we're on the subject, I don't really think it would be great for the campaign if you were to keep Freedman on board with you. I have a tinkerin' that he's trouble with capital 'T.' He drinks too much and sleeps around with too many women. He'd be your Roger Clinton, and even Bill didn't want him around.

Just kiddin'! I bet you got a good laugh out of that one. I know the man is as straight as Bobby Livingston out on a date with his secretary, but the truth is he just looks too much like Steve Forbes and thats just gonna confuse potential voters, you hear me?

Mary and I also agree that the New Hampshire Primary is going to be a huge no-no as well. 'The Live Free or Die' State is not gonna buy your 'Let me Help Micro-Manage Your Lives' shtick at all. Besides, you win New Hampshire with photo-ops and the best ones are at Dartmouth. However, for some strange reason I don't think Bluto is gonna let you speak from his balcony like he did for Bob Dole four years ago. The death threats alone would confine you to the outskirts of Manchester anyway.

But after that, the country is yours for the taking and there's nobody out there that can stop you. Al Gore? The granite in New Hamphire in February has more warmth than he does while you look like a well-shorn Santa Claus. Bill Bradley? He's a dumb jock born and educated in Jersey while you're a respected historian born and educated in Wisconsin. I know I like cheddar cheese from Madison on my shredded beef sandwich a hell of a lot more than I like my shredded beef sandwich from Hoboken on my chedder cheese— you follow?

Doing the rough calculations in my head, I figure you can take the other forty-eight states pretty easily. All you need is a simple slogan and you've got it already. Lets say you're giving a speech on crime, you would end it by saying, 'It'll be the end of crime as we know it.' Or say the speech is on Saddam Hussein, the grand finale would be, 'It'll be the end of Saddam Hussein as we know it.' If you ask me, its much better then that 'It's the econmy, stupid' junk that Bill has been blabberin' about for the past six years.

Hearing this, the people are definitely gonna hop aboard the James Wright Love-Train all the way to the National Convention in Los Angeles, while all those elephant-loving Republicans are going to be slumming it up ghetto-style in West Philadephia at their own little nominating get-together (Sorry, wrong choice of words, but I just couldn't help myself. Don't go lead a candlelight vigil just yet!).

I see it now: You on the stage with two jumbotron TV screens behind you
proclaiming 'The Wright Stuff in 2000.' Bill is to your right, Sharon Stone is to your left, and I'll be right behind you smilin' like the jackrabbit that just stole the rutabaga. You step up to the podium and smile back over to your wife. Finally, you address the delegation and they absolutely love you.

You know it's time Jim— it's the Wright time to move on (that one will look good on a button!). The time is now to leave Dartmouth behind you and go one to the next logical step— the White House.

Just leave Darmouth James Wright — the college will really appreciate it.

Think it over and get back to me.

Your Favorite Rajun' Cajun',
James Carville

The Wright Man in 2000

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