Hey Grok, Turn My Senator Into Superman

*All mental images conjured forthwith are in black and white. An urgent, almost nagging, tone accompanies the text. The ambiance is reminiscent of the Perfect Brownie Pan infomercial, circa 1998.*

Are you tired of the same old politicians, standing on stage, giving rehearsed stump speeches? Are you sick of hearing the same platitudes recited over quiet applause? Have you had it up to here waiting countless hours in line at some grimy hall only to listen to somnolescent talking points recited by cookiecut puppet in a two-dollar suit who probably moved to your state last week?

Well, forget all those wasted hours and bored tears. You deserve a politician who matches all your hopes and dreams to a tee. Ignore the fuddy-duddy admonishing about pols being poor role models, who can never mirror your aspirations. That’s outmoded, outdated, dusty, and dead thinking.

*Cue to color.* Look all around you at the wonders of artificial intelligence! With just a few keystrokes, those wonderful cyber syntha-brains can create anything you imagine, from clips of cats singing Christmas carols, to minivideos of your best friend soiling himself in front of the Dalai Lama, to putting your favorite childhood cartoon characters in tumblesheet situations. (If you, uh, enjoy such licentious things.)

Hell, you can even reimagine yourself cured of la petite mort via reconstructive JPEG.

So why not harness the limitless labor of fabrica-bots to burnish your preferred barnstormer?

Introducing the new hustings hunk: former representative of Michigan’s 8th congressional district, the esteemed Mike Rogers!

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Mike who? Or: Isn’t Mr. Rogers pushing daisies? Or even: You mean that softball dad who stains his Nike Monarchs verdant while cutting the grass on Sundays?

Of, for our aspie libertarian readers: You mean that neocon warmonger who shills for Raytheon and gnaws on the bones of incinerated Muslim children???

To which I laconoically reply: Yes. That Mike Rogers.

Forget everything you knew about this milquetoast GOP toady, and whichever post offices he’s named. The erstwhile congressman is a pioneer. His campaign for U.S. Senate is utilizing advanced technology in a way that will absolutely humiliate his opponent and win him resounding victory. Rogers is riding the wave of the political future… today!

His secret sauce, his dash of glitter, his egg in his Midwestern hopslop, is that effortless tool already making life’s mundane tasks obsolete. Yes, AI is helping you write emails, find how-tos, vibe code, chat with a customer representative, file your taxes, book a flight, and calculate how long it would take an Adélie penguin to waddle across Antarctica.

But did you know it can mold any candidate into a muscly Mr. Clean? That’s right! With a few prompts and a click, you can turn a dad paunch into rippling abs, man boobs into a barrel-chest, and even a sallow, paper-thin nape into a bullneck.

Thanks to the forward-thinking of an aide, Mike Rogers went from heavyset papa to bulging bruiser, all in one tweet. The campaign hand was immediately flagged, but, in politics, you know that all publicity is good publicity. So Mr. Rogers was transmorgified even more into all sorts of eye-catching creatures, including the Hulk and a buxom vamp.

The campaign wisely jumped into the japing, posting a cartoonified video of Rogers going full WWE. It’s only a matter of time before a Reel of him suplexing Haley Steven goes viral.

There you have it: the easy-as-kittens technique to turn your staid chub of a votemonger into an ironman A-lister whose biceps shapeshift into rocket launchers that fire red-white-blue roman candles. Just a couple-a clicks and voilà! Brawny Man for the Waukesha Selectmen’s Board!

All those hack schemers, cash-burning consultants, astroturf planters, authenticity choreographers, martini-slicked operatives, feature writers, and Dick Tuck epigones are about to go the way of brougham manufacturers. Look at the shoddy material they’ve produced lately. A Nazi-inked woman-clouter in Maine? Ha! Grok would have never produced such a combustible offering. The human gladhander is out; AI is turning the personal into professional, entertaining voters’ delusions, not dispelling them.

The great political monkeyshiner Roger Stone famously observed that “unless you can fake sincerity, you’ll get nowhere in this business.” AI is such a blessing that no emotion has to be faked. Sincerity, anger, joy, indignation, aspiration, hope, unbidden enthusiasm—such quaint expressions are as moss-covered as Millard Fillmore’s gravestone. The republic is no longer in need of warm-blooded custodians. Leave the civic squabbling to the pixelsphere. The horse race is now little different than gas-station fruit machines, all flash and loss.