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Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound? 

I want to be a super delegate. Mainly so I can wear a cape and tights. I do look good in tights.

Actually, I don’t really know what a super delegate is. I’m not even sure if I should be spelling it super delegate or super-delegate or superdelegate or even sooperdellagit.

It’s just that everybody’s been talking about them lately, these mysterious super delegates, and when I hear the term, my mind immediately jumps to thoughts of crime fighting in day-glo Spandex.

“Stop, evil-doer!” a costumed super delegate says in one of my many daydreams. “Behold my mighty hammer of justice, with which I send you to the Big House!”

Fantasy and reality are fairly far apart, though, a point driven home by an exploration into what a super delegate really is: Congresswoman Lois Capps.

She’s one example of a super delegate, anyway. I’ve heard that Bill Clinton is one, too. And Jimmy Carter. And Al Gore. And a whole bunch of other Democrats—almost 800, by most counts—none of whom, in my humble opinion, should go anywhere near a skin-tight body-suit, even if they are trying to save the world and protect innocents from crime bosses and environmental collapse and Republicans.

The true function of a super delegate, as best as I can tell, is to throw some weight around when it comes time to nominate a party leader. Capps, for instance, is backing Barack Obama in the race for president.

“Stop, Hillary Clinton!” she says in one of my many daydreams. “Behold my mighty vote of justice, with which I send Obama to the White House!”

I’m no political scholar, so correct me if I’m wrong, all you poli-sci professors and pundits, but the “super” in super delegate really isn’t that super at all. It’s just a fancy way of labeling a Democratic Party bigwig—whether congressperson, governor, or former president—who can vote however they want, for whomever they feel like. It’s still just one vote, but they can make up their own minds without having to follow any pledges or constituents or what-have-you, and now my head is nodding forward and my eyes are slowly closing because this is sounding less and less like the action-packed living comic book I’d first hoped for and more like a high school civics lesson.

Nothing is more boring than high school civics lessons.

Lois Capps explained that she’s flexing her super muscles for Obama for many reasons: He can win in November (good to know), he’s challenging voters and leaders in Washington to fight for truth, justice, and the American way (or something like that), and he represents the change that U.S. citizens are clamoring for.

As far as campaign themes go, “change” is a pretty savvy one. I’ve seen T-shirts with “Obama for change” and “Obama for hope.” It’s a good message, don’t get me wrong, but being a voice for change in this political climate is like stepping up and praising the benefits of rain in the middle of a drought. It’s a no-brainer. Of course people want change, even the ones who got their economic stimulus checks in the mail and promptly purchased an iPhone.

Don’t tell George W. Bush, but I used mine to pay off most of my credit card debt, though I should probably have put the whole thing onto a gas card.

See, despite the cash the government is giving us, I look around these days, and I don’t see too many happy people. Sure, there are happy moments. It’s not like everyone is walking around like they’re in a gulag or anything, but overall joy is in shorter supply. There’s the ubiquitous war. And the looming recession. There are layoffs and flights being grounded and houses getting foreclosed on. There’s bad grammar (like in that last sentence) and growing classroom sizes and failing gun laws and torture and melting ice caps and Deal or No Deal and a whole lot of crap we all deal with every day.

So when someone comes along and says that he’s working toward change, there’s not a person in the country who wouldn’t look around and say, “Well, it’s not like he could make it much worse.”

So here goes: Last week I announced that I was throwing my write-in hat into the ring for county supervisor, but this week I’m setting my sights a little higher. If I can win my own share of super delegates who can do whatever they want no matter what anybody says—even change their minds on who they’re voting for, right at the last minute—I just might be able to lead the nation. Like Obama, I’m committed to change and hope and all of those other values that underscore the sucky state of things now but call for a brighter future with me at the helm.

Really, it’s not like I could do much worse.

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