Recently, while on the campaign trail, Jeb was asked that if it was possible, would he go back in time and kill baby Hitler.
"Hell, ya. You gotta step up." That is a direct, real-world quote.
Finally, we're getting to the nub of an important issue that affects the middle class. Time travel, and its effect on nasty people.
It's remarkable that the iconic film Back to the Future, with all its ramifications, is finally causing reverberations throughout society, as I knew it would.
Marty McFly, philosopher of the ages. Sales of DeLorean's are skyrocketing.
It gets tiresome when politicians are continually bothered with "that's-not-gonna-happen", hard-to-believe scenarios like nuclear war, unemployment, terrorism, when history is full of far more important issues, like who was the caveman that threw the first ever punch.
My reaction is, why stop at one baby? Baby killing can be habit-forming. While your time machine is up and running, why not get Stalin? Pol Pot? Nixon?
Jeb went on to say that he would enter the nursery where little Adolph was born and do it quietly, with a pillow, identifying Hitler by his trend-setting moustache. He loved the irony of such a violent man going so gently into that good night.
At one point, the interviewer handed Jeb what looked like a genuine plane ticket, with the words "Virgin Air Time Travel-One Return Ticket" on it.
Jeb got very nervous, thinking holy shit, I might actually have to do this. The interviewer laughed and admitted it was a fake, but Jeb was unconvinced, sweat flowing from his armpits.
I so wish the interviewer presented him with other likely scenarios, so I can better judge if he is up for President. My question would have been: let's suppose a car hits a street lamp, the light falls, rolls into some scaffolding at a nearby building, which collapses, causing a large board to fall from a great height, further causing a nail to be flung from the board, whistling towards a nearby baby's head. Would you, Jeb, jump in front of that nail to save baby X.
A man who can kill babies one day and save them the next, a man who can make that crucial distinction, has President written all over his face.
Alas, there was some disagreement in the Bush household. Jeb's wife, what's her name, preferred the more motherly route: go back, breast feed Adolph and dress him in soft, hand-knit sweaters, so that he has the proper upbringing to avoid seeing people as vermin.
Could you be President? What would you do?
