Great Uncle E. Theofus Fuller, Jr, on the Presidential Race

Feb 05, 2008 - 22:18 PM PST

Part of the reason I appreciate living here in Arkansas so much is the connection I've been able to maintain with my extended family. One of the great patriarchs of the Fuller family - and in fact the oldest living member thereof - is my great uncle, Earl Theofus Fuller, Jr., of Hogwallop, Arkansas, which is down in the delta in what's known as "Horsecollar Country." Great Uncle Theofus will be 136 years old next week, and I was down there earlier today to see about getting his birthday celebration set up. Turns out he wants "a big fire pit with a pig on a spit," and boy if I wasn't standing too close when he said that, got old man spittle all down my front. Well, I went inside and got cleaned up, and when I came back out to the porch, Theofus was smoking his pipe and we got to talking about who all was running for President.

Disclaimer: Earl Theofus Fuller, Jr., speaks very quickly, and he has a touch of what's entered the common parlance as "the views of an ancient southern aristo." In other words, he's got a touch of "the racism." This is what he had to say:

John McCain

Tell you what, I'd like to stick it to that sumbitch's wife. Hell, I'd go POW for a few weeks in Pyong Yang myself, if you get me. Amphibious insertion, if you get me. Tell you what, though, McCain ain't never gonna be President, because that sumbitch is older'n antique dirt, and twice as dry. It ain't a good use of us taxpayers' money makin' the White House all wheelchair-friendly for when he breaks his hip learnin' some stupid dance with Prince Sheik of Mohammad-istan or the guv'ner of Allah-bama or whateverthehell they call it now it's they've got some real democracy like we got. And we ain't go no clue what it was them Viet Cong probably planted in his head, probably some sorta top secret bamboo microchip, prob'ly have us all eating chop-suey with them karate chopsticks, probably go around callin' us Charlie and freakin' out ever time that traffic whirlybird heads up this way. Ain't no hill 237 up here, Johnny Mac.

Mike Huckabee

Now, I know y'all think I'm a big fan of this sumbitch, but let me tell you this, is what he is is one of the dumbest sumbitches ever did walk upright. Suckabee, more like, heh. I ain't fond of the idea that back up the family tree I got a monkey bastard for a grandpappy sucking on bananas, but even so I got proof of that ee-vo-lution right here in the family. The way I figure, if it ain't no evolution, my oldest boy, who me and his momma named Lynyrd Skynyrd Fuller (after his grandpappy), I figure if it ain't no evolution around, Lynyrd shoulda most likely turned out pale as sweetcorn in September, his momma and I both being of the Caucasoid race and damn near pasty as last week's buttermilk. Well, glory be, if he didn't come out a nice milk-chocolatey color, what to protect him from the sun, I reckon! Yep, born Ju-ly 17th! I ain't so good with numbers and dates and the like, but I remembers that one cause it was nine months exact after that feller Dave Chappelle come down the city college and got hisself run out of town for saying the gays ain't hellbound.

Hillary Clinton

The hell is wrong with her, only having that one daughter, and that Chelsea that she did have looking like the underside of my saddle? You know it weren't Bill couldn't get it done, neither, horny as he was all the time. The way I figure, her trying to be all Queen of the world an' shit was all Sly Boots Billy's idea, prob'ly thinkin' the only thing better'n an intern was the President. Slick Willy, that ol' sumbitch, they say he was the "first black president" and all, and I still ain't figure out what that means, but the more folks likes you, the more folks it is will buy you a beer. But who it is gon' fix things if we have us a woman in the White House, all putting up drapes and potpourri all in the Oval Office and changing the colors of the flag so they match up with her K-Mart outfits? We gon' end up with Martha Stewart, Secretary of the Interior Design? How is it for sure she ain't gon' get in the middle of some peace talks and come over all time-of-the-month like? Or get all knock-kneed cause that Russian Pootin feller's gone and bought her some candy cherries or some such shit? Now, I'm all for equality when it comes to things that's got to be equal, but it just ain't gonna look good if the king of America ain't doing nothing but walkin' around barefoot in her pregnant britches, eating purple hull peas and corn pone.

Mitt Romney

Mitt Romney? The fuck is he? Fellah spends too much time on his hair, is who he is. Catcher's Mitt, more like, and I reckon you know what I'm saying. Mormon, huh? Moron, more like. Now, I heard this sumbitch say a few years back that abortion should be legal and safe, and now it's all save the kids, save the kids with the sumbitch. I hate kids as much as the next fellah who likes to mosey about the porch without britches, but you cain't just go sucking 'em up and out like a milk shake from down over't drug store. Shit, who's gonna run go pick up my chaw if I ain't got a youngun' to make sure that fuckwit down corner store give me the flavor I like? Hell, if I got to run back down there myself one more time to make sure that sumbitch orders me enough Skoal Extra Musky Deerspit plugs to last through possum season, I might just take down my muzzle loader and oil it up again, stick it where the sun don't shine. Mitt Romney? The fuck is he?

Barack Obama

Shit, Barack Obama Bin Saddama, more like. Right, I'm gonna vote him into the White House. Probably hire up that sumbitch rapper what's on the MTV, that "exhibition" fellah to pimp out the Oval Office, put a nintendo in the war room or something else dipshit-dumb. And what the hell is a buh-rock, anyhow? Shit, I figure you break up a buh-rock, you got yerself a whole mess of buh-pebbles and I don't figure we want nothing as President done been used to pave my driveway. That name, it just ain't American. It's like something that done come from somewhere else, like San Francisco or some shit. Hell, I bet that boy been to France. Ain't much worse than that, maybe making out with old Jack Cousteu and some Mer-man like was on the Cirque de Soleil. Now that was a good show, saw it out in Vegas, personally I didn't see what my cousin Dongoober Willis thought was so gay, I figured them boys was wearing them tights in order to show off they big manliness to them fine ladies what bend all backwards, I mean it ain't nothing wrong with it as long as you don't look at it direct. Kind of like the sun - it's right warm, but you ain't got to go blind to know it's there.

I done talked myseff thirsty. Thing it is, I cain't get all worked up too much, cause I cain't even vote no more, not since I got the gangrene from making nice with that field combine - hell, I didn't know it was harvest day, how you 'spect me see them boys in the early morning, dark as it is? Nearest polls is down yonder a ways anyhow, and the judge ain't take kindly to me steppin' foot west of Main Street since I done met up with his sister Leona out back of the barn dance, and dang if that wasn't fifteen years ago. All it was is I plum forgot he was my brother and dang if that don't make Leona my sister but by that point we was already hitched legal in most states.

President? The fuck you mean, "it ain't Reagan no more?"

* * *

So, that's what E.T. Fuller, Jr., had to say. I know his views aren't entirely modern, but let's not forget that this is a man who lives little more than a hair's breadth from utter senility. It's from people like him that we can learn the truly important lessons in life:

One, that "you best have pride in your national pride, otherwise you might be homo," and that's bad.

Two, that "I just figure anything I cain't figure out ain't worth my time and is most likely homo."

Three, that "hell, I bet you been to France, ain't you?" and that's bad.

Thank God for social security.