Nope. Just, nope.

Let’s start with the obvious question no one in the media is asking: Is anyone actually expecting to learn anything by watching Orange Man and Geriatric Joe holler at each other for 90 minutes later this week?

Maybe a better lede is the declarative: No one is going to learn anything watching Orange Man and Geriatric Joe holler at each other for 90 minutes later this week. Followed by a more pertinent interrogative: Given that reality, why would anyone subject themselves to it?

It will be a 90 minute shouting match between a septuagenarian carnival barker with a penchant for political strongmen and a habit of spouting white nationalist dog whistles, and an octogenarian political hack who never had a real job in his life, has unleashed chaos at the border and in our cities, and doesn’t know where he is half the time these days. Nothing more than the desultory nature of the 2024 presidential election will be on display.

Again, why on earth would anyone subject themselves to 90 minutes of that, especially knowing they aren’t going to hear anything they haven’t heard a thousand times already? The prospects are grim, if not downright depressing. No wonder a record number of Americans are saying, “neither.” As of June 2024 so-called “double haters” (they should be called “thoroughly rational people”) make up between a fifth and a quarter of the electorate. Desultory, indeed. Everyone else knows who we’re going to vote for — and most of us will do it while pinching our noses.

All of this is why I’d rather listen to Yoko Ono scream and ululate for an hour and a half. I’d rather watch 90 minutes of The View or The Five. I’d rather watch Magic Mike’s Last Dance, or one of the other 10 worst movies of 2023. If you gave me a choice between bamboo shoots under my fingernails and watching Orange Man and Joltin’ Joe holler at each other from their respective political porches, I would have to take some time to weigh the options.

Ah, now that’s better….

In short, unless someone literally puts a gun to my head I will not be within a country mile of a television set come Thursday at 6pm, or whenever the charade kicks off. My mental health is at stake. So is yours.

Among the things you likely will not see are reasoned debate, rational argument, and policy proposals supported by data and experience.

One thing you definitely won’t see on that CNN stage is a trace of actual leadership.

That’s it. You’re welcome, America. I just saved you 90 minutes of your life that you now can spend with your children, reading a great work of literature, catching up on work, watching something worthwhile on TV, or taking a nap. You can finally take care of the rogue hair follicle that’s been growing out of your forehead for the last month. Any of those activities will provide more benefit to your life and well-being than watching a debate that promises to be a debased joke.

Seriously, it’s right there in the promotional materials. In an interview, CNN chief Mark Thompson said, “Much of the reaction of the public, the rest of the media and other politicians is going to depend on President Trump and President Biden, who are the stars of the show.”

And there you have it. The candidates are “stars of the show.” That’s how CNN is approaching what the media otherwise are calling the most consequential debate since – I don’t know, the time Cro Magnon and Neanderthal leaders met at the Badia of the Levant to try and resolve their differences. Or something. I don’t know and I don’t care.

Other promotions are urging Americans to tune into “the big game.” Uh-huh. Maybe I’ll rewatch the last 90 minutes of Kobe Bryant’s last game, or the Patriots’ stunning comeback over Matt Ryan and the Atlanta Falcons in Super Bowl LI, aka “28-3.” And there’s always that nap.

The bar for both men is incredibly low. Trump has to go 90 minutes without sounding like sociopath. Biden has to go 90 minutes, full stop. As long as neither man literally falls down or declares war on an ally, both will claim victory. As I noted a minute ago, they’ll claim victory even if their man does fall down or declare war. Or if he falls down while declaring war.

There is only one guarantee about this fraud of a debate. If you watch it, your blood pressure will go up. Every time the guy you don’t like starts talking you’ll feel that helpless, impotent rage building all over again. It’s not a nice feeling. It’s not a feeling that leads to good outcomes. It’s the kind of feeling that leads to domestic disputes. I promise you that if you watch the debate you will come out of it tied into emotional knots.

Because you and I cannot do a damn thing about the presidential election. Sure, we could volunteer for our candidate of choice, maybe do some phone banking and door knocking. We could try submitting an op-ed or a letter to the editor. 

But we won’t, of course. The blood sport of American presidential politics is just that: Sport. It’s spectacle. Like everything else these days the participants are screaming and tweeting over each other, trying to be the loudest voice in the stadium. Few are in the arena because the legacy parties have roped it off and secured it. Mere average Americans are not welcome in the actual scrum.

Forget it. Want to make an impact, want to provide some relief to that sense of powerlessness? Tune out the stupid debates and find a place to volunteer in your community. Work on a local city council or school board campaign. Show up at a house party for your local candidate for state assembly or Congress. 

Whatever you do, please don’t watch the charade on Thursday night. It’s for your own good.