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We should replace all political debates with a high-stakes game of Twister. It would be highly entertaining and significantly more representative of the candidates’ positions.

Hear me out. Political debates are both dull and stuffy. Or maybe it’s the other way around.

You get two geezers on stage who talk on and off for two minutes at a time, depending on when the host smacks the “mute microphone” button.

It completely ignores vital American questions, like what team will win the next Super Bowl? Alternatively, will the price of eggs drop in the next century?

Worst of all, the host always asks boring questions like “What do you think of the escalating situation in Lower Silesia?”

I don’t know what Lower Silesia is, much less Upper Silesia. But the candidates have to know. Or do they? Is the audience really listening, anyway?

Twister is a much better alternative.

Not only does it practically guarantee that the average candidate would be under the age of 45, it would test skills like flexibility, strength, and sheer force of will — all qualities that are highly valuable to an American leader.

Plus, I can virtually guarantee that more Americans would tune in to a Twister battle than they would for 90 minutes of political propaganda, plus ads.

If Twister is not your cup of tea (and it’s really hard to drink one in the middle of a game), then I would suggest Scrabble.

Nothing tests mental acuity better than being given one minute to spell a word with all of your seven letters.

Scrabble rewards creativity with double-letter and even triple-letter scores.

But you enjoy the game best when you trick your opponents into glancing away from their letter racks and rob their letters in the meantime.

It shows resourcefulness, cleverness, and brightness. Or did I mean brilliance?

I don’t know words too well, which is why I write for newspapers instead of for presidential campaigns.

But while we’re on the subject, I’d love to be a speechwriter.

Sure, my main responsibility in the papers is to come up with jokes, but I promise I can write about boring subjects just as well, if not better.

I can emphasize the fact that Lower Silesia’s largest city is Wrocław. I can attest that its crest is a black eagle with a white cross on its middle.

Most importantly, I can write long and eloquently about kielbasa, which is a favorite dish among the Lower Silesians.

I don’t know if the Silesians like to feed black eagles with kielbasa, but I am down to going to Lower Silesia to check, so long as the government pays for my trip as part of a cultural exchange program.

All I need to do is find out where Lower Silesia is, and I’ll be set.

So if you happen to know a political candidate — whether it be for a humble mayorship, a great governorship, or even (egads!) the presidency—drop me a line.

I’ll write them a speech for free if they can beat me at Twister.

Copyright 2025 Alexandra Paskhaver, distributed exclusively by Cagle Cartoons newspaper syndicate.

Alexandra Paskhaver is a software engineer and writer. Both jobs require knowing where to stick semicolons, but she’s never quite; figured; it; out. For more information, check out her website at https://apaskhaver.github.io.

About Alexandra Paskhaver
Alexandra Paskhaver is a software engineer and writer. Both jobs require knowing where to stick semicolons, but she’s never quite; figured; it; out. For more information, check out her website at https://apaskhaver.github.io.
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