Shocking news yesterday: Rick Santorum has suspended his campaign for President. That in itself is not so shocking, but I still can’t believe that it happened before a sex scandal destroyed his personal life. As of this writing, I can only conclude that he has no personal life to destroy. Where a normal person would crusade against gay rights and contraception because he is raw-dogging it six days a week in the bathroom at Wal-Mart, Santorum seems to genuinely believe the words that emerge from his mouth. In this way, he was an anomaly in contemporary politics. I would say that he will be missed, except everything he said—sincere or no—was insane. It’s like if there were a bird that, instead of singing, made extremely realistic farting sounds at high volume, and then it became extinct.
The face of his sons says it all: Mitt Romney technically won the Iowa caucuses. He got it by eight votes. It was a victory clutched in the snatch of defeat, since the real winner—the guy who worked his black slacks off to accomplish what Romney did casually—was Rick Santorum. Now it’s his turn to be the GOP front-runner who runs second to Mitt Romney. Michele Bachmann has dropped out. Newt Gingrich was eaten by a big, poop-eating snake that thought he was a poop. And Ron Paul believes that you can’t have a caucus, because they’re unconstitutional. He came in third to Santorum, proving that you can always sell nihilism to the Republican Party.