“How can I be substantial if I fail to cast a shadow?” asked Jung. “I must have a dark side also if I am to be whole.”
With that in mind, I have a confession to make: I think Tucker Bounds is adorable. He’s cute, he’s kind of nerdy, he’s kind of stupid, and — being the spokesman for the Insane Train McCain Campaign — he goes around with that deer in the headlights look pretty much all the time.
It’s much more lovable than Nancy Pfotenhauer’s frozen smile, the one that says, I will kill them later, but for now I will smile. They can humiliate me on national television but, goddammit, they cannot break my smile! Nancy is just a little bit scary.
There’s nothing scary about Tucker. He looks like the boy next door, or one of my nephews’ friends. And despite the fact that he goes on television every day and lies his ass off, somehow you don’t blame him for it. You can’t help thinking that somehow he’s a nice boy, a good kid who just fell in with bad companions.
Of course, I’m assuming Tucker’s straight. My little crush on Tucker demands that he be straight, because for a gay man — no matter how adorable — to have the job Tucker has would make him a low-down quisling bitch like Patrick Sammon. I find that whole cute-but-stupid thing endearing, but he is, after all, nearly thirty years old, and the world doesn’t need another gay Rethug. Tucker must be straight for the lovable dumbass thing to work.
Anyway, I’m on the lookout for a Tucker Bounds bobblehead. If you see one, let me know. I’ve only got about another week to enjoy his tv appearances, as he helplessly tries to come up with some reason, any reason, why we should think John McCain isn’t insane. After election day, the poor guy’s probably going to have to go off and have a nervous breakdown for a while.
