To pander: to act as go-between or liaison in sexual intrigues; to cater to the lower tastes and desires of others or exploit their weakness; to pimp.
Dear Mr./Ms. Candidate,
Thank you for coming to my church service/summit/breakfast meeting/conference this weekend. It was a pleasure to host you and hear your views on my views. It's so reassuring to know we're on the same page.
But, I must admit that I have been feeling a bit ... oogie about your visit, of late. Some questions have been cropping up with an alarming regularity. I honestly don't know where these questions are coming from - this doubt. It can't be from your speech; your words were fiery, inspirational and resonated so deeply within my own bosom it was like you peered into my heart and wrote my words with your own pen.
I can't help wondering, however, what your visit meant.
What happened there? I mean, I guess your visit and our welcome of you was a signal that we were for you - or, that I am for you. But what is it that I am getting? Do I get everything I want from you? Are you promise-bound to do what I want? Does this mean you, Mr./Ms. Candidate, are my own personal genie?
What will I have to bring you in return? What is this bargain we've made? Or have we even made a bargain?
I hear the media and pundits call your visit 'pandering to the base.' What does that mean? If I may be so bold as to use the language of pandering - am I the john, or are you? Who's the prostitute? Is this you? I would prefer you be the prostitute, but then this makes me your client, and this is what makes me feel ... oogie. I don't know what kind of transaction this is or who benefits.
Back to my fears: if I'm the john, then all I get is a quick fuck and possibly a disease that will make me ooze from an orifice (please excuse my language. The political world is so new to me.) If you're the whore, all you get is a quick bang; if you're the pimp, however, you get all the cash. Is this what happened? Are you the pimp? But if I'm the pimp...hm. You can understand how confusing this all is for me. I think I'm having an identity crisis here - and you prompted it!
Or maybe we all take turns being the pimp and john and whore. Like a giant game of dress-up. Or a political orgy. Or a weird threesome where no one knows who's tupping who.
Of course, those scenarios do nothing to allay my fears that I have participated in something...unseemly. If I really had to ask what Jesus would do, I believe he would refuse to be the whore, john and pimp.
So you see the quandary I'm in.
Anyway, thank you for your time. Enclosed please find a check to your campaign. I gave your autograph to my sister and she's thrilled I had a chance to meet you at our church service/summit/breakfast meeting/conference this weekend.
Perhaps this time, next year, I may have the honor of calling you Mr./Madam President.
Yours,
The Values Voter
Dear Mr./Ms. Candidate,
Thank you for coming to my church service/summit/breakfast meeting/conference this weekend. It was a pleasure to host you and hear your views on my views. It's so reassuring to know we're on the same page.
But, I must admit that I have been feeling a bit ... oogie about your visit, of late. Some questions have been cropping up with an alarming regularity. I honestly don't know where these questions are coming from - this doubt. It can't be from your speech; your words were fiery, inspirational and resonated so deeply within my own bosom it was like you peered into my heart and wrote my words with your own pen.
I can't help wondering, however, what your visit meant.
What happened there? I mean, I guess your visit and our welcome of you was a signal that we were for you - or, that I am for you. But what is it that I am getting? Do I get everything I want from you? Are you promise-bound to do what I want? Does this mean you, Mr./Ms. Candidate, are my own personal genie?
What will I have to bring you in return? What is this bargain we've made? Or have we even made a bargain?
I hear the media and pundits call your visit 'pandering to the base.' What does that mean? If I may be so bold as to use the language of pandering - am I the john, or are you? Who's the prostitute? Is this you? I would prefer you be the prostitute, but then this makes me your client, and this is what makes me feel ... oogie. I don't know what kind of transaction this is or who benefits.
Back to my fears: if I'm the john, then all I get is a quick fuck and possibly a disease that will make me ooze from an orifice (please excuse my language. The political world is so new to me.) If you're the whore, all you get is a quick bang; if you're the pimp, however, you get all the cash. Is this what happened? Are you the pimp? But if I'm the pimp...hm. You can understand how confusing this all is for me. I think I'm having an identity crisis here - and you prompted it!
Or maybe we all take turns being the pimp and john and whore. Like a giant game of dress-up. Or a political orgy. Or a weird threesome where no one knows who's tupping who.
Of course, those scenarios do nothing to allay my fears that I have participated in something...unseemly. If I really had to ask what Jesus would do, I believe he would refuse to be the whore, john and pimp.
So you see the quandary I'm in.
Anyway, thank you for your time. Enclosed please find a check to your campaign. I gave your autograph to my sister and she's thrilled I had a chance to meet you at our church service/summit/breakfast meeting/conference this weekend.
Perhaps this time, next year, I may have the honor of calling you Mr./Madam President.
Yours,
The Values Voter
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