Political debates have always been asinine, at least as long as I've been watching "show business for ugly people." The greatest political zingers stick in our minds because 99 percent of the discourse on campaign trails involves politicians spouting pre-packaged platitudes.
I still remember the 1988 vice-presidential debate when Lloyd Bentsen retorted, "Senator, you're no Jack Kennedy," after Dan Quayle compared himself to JFK. My favorite line was from Edwin Edwards in his Louisiana governor's race against former KKK Grand Wizard David Duke: "The only thing we have in common is that we both have been wizards beneath the sheets." Edwards was corrupt (bumper sticker: "Vote for the Crook, It's Important"), but he was authentic and clever.
In the not-so-distant past, politicians—especially at the presidential level—have showed some decorum. Part of Donald Trump's appeal is his rejection of those long-standing ground rules, but his humor is reminiscent of that of a schoolyard bully. He tirelessly trots out dopey insults and types out long, conspiracy-laden all-caps tirades. They seem unintelligent and mean, but are indeed authentic.
