Bobby Dashiell for Governor of California
By Bobby Dashiell as told to J. Daniel Janzen

The signatures have been validated, the motions have been thrown out; like it or not, the recall is on. While there's no question the people of California deserve better than they've had lately, it's crucial that they not have worse. Instead of three more years of Casper the Unfriendly Ghost, they could be looking at a fading action star or a former child actor at the helm. In this motley race, Larry Flynt rises to Nader-like credibility.

I can't in good conscience stand by and let this happen to the greatest, most golden state in the union, so I herefore declare my candidacy to replace Gov. Gray Davis. I am fit, I am rested and I am ready to run. While I fall slightly short of the constitutional minimum of 18 years of age, the qualifications I have amassed in the seven months since my birth make my election not only plausible, but essential for restoring California to its former glory.

Governor Davis claims no responsibility for his state's collapse, blaming economic, political and historical forces beyond his control — a broad enough category that one wonders exactly what is in his control. But I'll tell you this: It wasn't me behind the big desk when the state's energy future was signed over to Enron. I wasn't even born yet. His legacy of failure already secure, Davis must now step aside for youth to take command and lead the state into a new future.

First and foremost, California needs a chief executive who can cut through the bureaucracy and picayune politics to get things done. My record speaks for itself: Since the beginning of the year, I have completed a sweeping administrative reorganization of my home sub-municipality that left no aspect of daily life untouched. My uncompromising Mr. Fussy-Face program has proven universally effective in seeing that my will — and the will of the people — is done. I will also not hesitate to make that sound — you know the one — as long as it takes to get results. Which usually isn't very long at all.

Some will challenge the validity of my campaign on the grounds that I live in New York, and that I have spent no more than two weeks in California in my entire life. To them, I say Hillary Clinton! The Windsor Dynasty — or should I say Saxe-Coburg and Gotha? How much time did George Washington spend in the United States prior to his election? Enough — such small-minded thinking is what led to this malaise in the first place.

Over the past seven months, questions have been raised concerning my position on Operation Iraqi Freedom. But it is not the job of the governor of California to make foreign policy, but rather to safeguard the welfare of the people of the state — and as far as that goes, my positions on job creation, educational reform and the environment are an open book. I will let you read it just as soon as I'm done chewing the binding.

Still, no state is an island, except for Hawaii and possibly Rhode Island — my puzzle map is maddeningly vague — and events overseas will always have ramifications at home. Security is paramount to our survival. Let me assure you that I will never hesitate to go to the thumb, and I encourage others to follow my example. Through noisy subway rides, passing sirens and head bonks too numerous to count, the thumb has proved universally effective in deterring peril.

But what good is security if our people aren't working, or have disappeared into an underemployed twilight? Surely I need not remind you of my deep, intimate knowledge of the labor situation. I've seen it from the inside, and I know it's not pretty, what with all the vernix and blood and the contractions squeezing, squeezing, squeezing. I understand the plight of the worker because I'm a worker myself, and I hold the conditions of my own contract as a standard to be met by employers throughout the state: breast feeding on demand, a three-nap day, cat privileges, people food not once but twice per day on a rubber-tipped spoon.

Ah, but what of energy policy, the curse under which we toil? There is no reason that a state with such vast resources should be a beggar when it comes to powering its machines. In the spirit of great American statesman-inventors like Franklin and Jefferson, I have pioneered an energy source of seemingly unlimited potential and proven its practicality for everything from transportation to food preparation to entertainment. Based on my calculations, I estimate that fully 73 percent of California's power needs can be met by Mommy and Daddy.

The Bobby Dashiell vision doesn't end there. I promise two toys in every tub, unfettered nudity, no more strained peas! It is the divine right of every person born in this state — in California, that is — to spend each day in peace and tranquility, every whim catered to, not a care beyond the next diaper change. I promise this, and so much more. I welcome your support, and I thank you for your vote this Oct. 7.