Campaign Strategy Meeting

Deep in the bowels of the Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator for President of the United States Campaign Headquarters, Professor Xavier and I were in the midst of our campaign strategy meeting.

“So Jon,” the Professor said. “Have you selected your running mate yet?”

“Not yet,” I replied. “This is tougher than I thought. I’ve looked at philosophers, scholars, soldiers, and leaders. I need someone who is all this and more.”

“Of course, I have every confidence in your abilities to find an outstanding vice president. However, on another note, I have a plan for taking on your, ehem, competition.”

“Really?” My eyebrow arched at his comment.

“Of course, these other candidates are resorting to dirty, underhanded, sneaky tricks to get at their opponents, so we have something for them.”

“A present?” I asked.

“That’s what it looks like.” The headmaster of the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning let a bit of a wicked smile cross his face. “We’ll address these to our distinguished competition from their loyal fans. Once they open the box—”


I grinned as the banana cream pie sprung out of the box like a delicious and deadly jack-in-the-box.

“Fantastic,” I breathed out.

“I’ll have our interns send them out right away,” the Professor added. “These will go out to Dr. Zaius, Dr. Smith, Monkerstein, Germaine Gregarious, Sleestak, and Phydeaux.”

“Wait, is Phydeaux even in the running?” I asked. “He appears to be headquartering his campaign from a broken down van.”

“I wouldn’t disparage his methods,” Xavier admonished. “That’s how Bill Clinton won his first gubernatorial race in Arkansas.”

“Of course,” I responded thoughtfully. “Wait again, this seems awfully devious to me.”

“Of course,” the powerful telepath agreed.

“I mean, this is a really, really sneaky and dirty tactic.”

“I agree.”

“Once I step down this path, forever shall it guide my destiny.”

“That goes without saying,” Xavier answered thoughtfully. “Why? Are you worried about something?”

“Naw, I’m just sayin’ is all,” I shrugged. “Let’s get those… presents out right away.”

A vote for Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is a vote for freedom. A vote for Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is a vote for progress. I'm Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator and I approve of this message.

Your attention please. Your favorite Intergalactic Gladiator has been interviewed over at Blog Interviewer. If you haven't already, stop on over and vote for me.

Update: There was a bit of a mistake with the link to Blog Interviewer (blame it on the interns). It's fixed now so click away!

A quiet scene, sort of

This weekend my family and I went to the Chicago Beer Society picnic. Patricia and I are not actually members, but for five bucks each and a dish of food, they let us hang out and have a few beers anyway.

The picnic was at a forest preserve close to where we live, so the convenience was nice. The area was a little flooded over because we had a lot of rain this week (Thank God there's no global warming, imagine what the rain would be like if there was!), but the standing water just makes the croquet game interesting.

Even more interesting is that the deer in this area can often be seen because they are pretty safe if they stick to the preserve area and don't go running out into the highway. Because of this, they don't bolt at the first sight of humans and I was lucky to get close to a couple yearlings and take a picture.

One of the things that I really admired about my father was his ability to get really close to wild animals. He grew up on a farm in Iowa and there was just something about his demeanor and the way he was with nature. He used to hunt as well, which is something that I don't do. I don't have anything against hunters and I know that the deer population often has to be culled, but I really just preferred my meat pre-killed. I hope that doesn't make me sound hypocritical, or at least not any more hypocritical than a vegetarian who wears leather Birkenstocks.

So I'm not kidding myself when I take pictures of deer when I get close to them. They know I'm near, but if I walk really slowly, I can get close enough for a few pictures. Though for some odd reason, as I'd get close, they would take a few steps away and I'd be looking at their rears.
Later, several more deer were close and I got a picture of a nice looking buck.

The best picture that I took that day goes without saying. A person could probably try for years and not get a shot like this.

The Search Continues to Continue

I made a list of potential candidates because as you know, my Uncle Marv always used to say “Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator, if you’re ever in a situation where you’re running for the president of the United States, make sure you make a list of potential candidates for vice president. That way, you can go over the pros and cons of what each person brings to the table. Also, never squirt a turkey baster full of lemon juice up your nose. It stings like the dickens.”

Uncle Marv was definitely onto something with his advice. Even the lemon juice part. So I compiled a list. Here it is:


Jan the Intergalactic Aviator
Pros: She's competent, smart, and knows how to handle tough situations. Could potentially corner the female vote.
Cons: She already declined.


Private Hudson
Pros: Uh, military experience?
Cons: Everything else.


Mr. Bennet
Pros: Mr. Bennet typically exudes a quiet competence. He has a background that may or may not include a lot of work with the government. He looks good in a suit.
Cons: His brain doesn't seem to be working at full capacity right now.


Tony Stark
Pros: Long standing ties to the government and SHIELD. Former secretary of defense.
Cons: People are still sore over that whole Civil War fiasco. As Iron Man, he's likely shot people in the head before. Yes, a former secretary of defense as a vice president who shoots people in the head. Boy, I'm never going to tire of that joke, huh?


Bruce Wayne
Pros: Also a wealthy industrialist -- we can trust those people in power, right? Would be a good anti-crime candidate.
Cons: He always seems wound so tightly. instead of a heartbeat away from the presidency, he'll be a heartbeat away from a nervous breakdown.


Scott Summers
Pros: A team player.
Cons: He's kind of like Private Hudson, but without the military discipline.

These candidates definitely won't do. I need a candidate who's larger than life. Someone who's a real hero to everyone out there. Someone who can take the vice presidency and transform it into something that America can be proud of.

The search continues.

My search for a vice president led me to Odessa Texas and the residence of none other than Mr. Bennet.

“Glad to see you again, Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator,” Mr. Bennet reached his hand out to shake mine. “I haven’t seen you since that game show on planet Hacknor Last Gladiator Standing II. So how are you doing?”

“I’m well,” I answered while pumping his hand. “Say, I’m running for president of the United States and I was looking for a VP. I think that you might have the kind of experience this country needs to lead this country into the future.”

“You know, I think you’re right,” the man sometimes referred to as Horn-Rimmed Glasses agreed. “I’ve already got a gun and I am 100 percent capable of shooting someone in the face with it.”

I paused for a moment. “Even though I appreciate the fact that I can use the same joke about the vice president shooting someone in the face two posts in a row, I don’t think that’s a quality that we should be, uh, the main focus of our campaign. You know what I mean?”

“Oh sure, I understand,” Bennet nodded. “I have to tell you though, I’m really good at shooting people in the face. I even shot my boss once. Wait, forget I just said that.”

“Uh, OK, moving on.” He wouldn’t shoot me in the face would he? That might ruin my hat. “I know you have leadership skills and you work for the government. At least I think you work for the government. You guys are so hush hush at Primatech.”

“Oh yeah,” he agreed. “If we were any more evil there, then we’d be Haliburton. I’m kidding of course, but I have to be honest. My work situation is in a, er, flux right now seeing as how I shot my boss in the head. Maybe I just got promoted; maybe I’m a fugitive on the run. We’ll see how things play out in the next month or so.”

“Oh sure,” I said. “I bet you’re pretty excited about what’s going to happen in September, huh?”

“Certainly,” he agreed. “Who knows what kind of excitement September will bring. A lot of the people I know can’t wait.”

“Plus, it’s football season,” I added.

“Uh, sure.” Mr. Bennet, who just recently revealed that his first name is Noah, looked a bit confused. “I guess.”

“Aren’t you a big football fan?” I asked.

“Well, I live in Texas,” he replied. “So I do follow the Cowboys. I don’t follow them a whole lot because of work, you know. A lot of my slinking around comes on weekends and Monday nights”

“Really? You’re not a fan of any other NFL team?”

“No, I can’t say that I am,” he shrugged.

“Hmmm.” I thought for a moment. “You don’t hang out with anyone who is a powerful telepath do you? Maybe someone who might be screwing with your mind?”

“Well, there’s the Haitian,” Bennet answered. “Ha ha, you know, one time he made one of the guys at the office forget that he was wearing headphones. That poor fellow couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t hear anyone. That was funny.”

“Think the Haitian might make you, oh I don’t know, wear a hat like that and then forget that it’s on,” I pointed up to his headgear.

“A hat like what?”

“So you’re looking for a vice president, eh?” Private Hudson asked with that telltale smirk on his face.

“Yes. Yes I am,” I replied. I had no doubt where this is going.

“Well, consider your search over.” The Marine poked his chest with a thumb.

“You know someone?”

“No, it’s me,” he answered, completely missing the joke. “I am the obvious choice to be your running mate.”

“Yeah, I don’t see that happening,” I shook my head. “I just don’t think that you have the right, uh, background that a position like this requires.”

“Are you kidding?” replied Hudson. “I’m perfect, think about it. I’m from Texas, you’re from Illinois. We’re the original odd couple!”

“I have to admit, you’ve got a point there,” I answered. “I still don’t know if you’ve got the political background to be a vice president.”

“I haven’t given you my best reason yet.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“I’ve got a gun.” His grin stretched from ear to ear.

“OK.”

“I could totally shoot my best friend in the face!” he exclaimed. “In fact, I once shot a man and then made him apologize.”

“Well, you do have a point there,” I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. “Shooting your friend in the face definitely seems to be a requirement for the office. I’ve got a question for you, though. What do you think about the vice president being part of the Executive Branch?”

Private Hudson’s brow furled in confusion. “Executive what in the who now?”

“I’ll think about it.”

My search for a VP

“You said that you needed to talk to me, Jon?”

It was Jan the Intergalactic Aviator. And she was wearing one ridiculous outfit.

“I wanted to ask you to be my running mate,” I said. “You might want to change your wardrobe a bit though.”

“Very funny there, Groucho,” she muttered back. “What do you mean you want me to be your running mate?”

“I’m running for president.”

“Of what, the Three Stooges Fan Club?” she asked.

“Who’s the comedian now?” I replied. “No, I’m running for president of the United States and I want you to be my vice president.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m serious,” I insisted.

“Why me?”

“I think you’re competent,” I said. “You’re good at what you do, you’re smart, and you’ve saved the Earth, what, four times now?”

“Five, not that anyone on Earth even knows,” she smiled. “There’s something else here. Why are you really asking me?”

“I told you why,” I said. “I think you’re a great choice for VP.”

“No, really.”

“I’m serious,” I insisted. “I need a strong partner on this ticket. Do you see what I’m running against?”

“Wait a minute, I know why you want me to run,” she nodded knowingly. “It’s because Dr. Zaius has that lesbian running mate, isn’t it?”

“What? I’m shocked that you’d say that!” I said with a shocked tone in my voice.

“Right. I’m going to have to say no.”

“What? Aw come on, why not?”

“Look, I’ve got too much on my plate already,” Jan answered. “I’m already competing in this World Stop Hero Challenge or whatever the frack it’s called and I’m still trying to recoup my losses from that stupid adventure I had with that idiot Bandit.”

“Oh yeah,” I said. “I read about that.”

“Right. So read my lips: no. I do not want to be your running mate. I do not want to be a part of this race. I do not want you using me to try to get the hot lesbian vote, not that I am one, not that there’s anything wrong with it. I don’t want to be vice president.”

OK, back to the drawing board.

Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is your Candidate

Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is your candidate for president of the United States of America.

Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is your education candidate.

"As the husband of a Chicago Public School teacher, I understand the difficulties teaching the youth of America. I will not rest until our children get the education they need and so richly deserve."

Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is your candidate for president of the United States of America.

Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is your healthcare candidate.

"As the son of a man who had health problems, I understand the healthcare issues that are plaguing this country of ours. That is why I put together this crack team of healthcare professionals to do what it takes to make the people of this great nation healthy. I will not stop until all of the people of America are healthy."

Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is your candidate for president of the United States of America.

Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is your military candidate.

"I served proudly in the United States Army in real-world situations that are still classified top secret to this day."
"I know what it takes to be an effective Commander in Chief, and I will not rest until Cobra Commander is captured once again."

Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is your candidate for president of the United States of America.

Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is your entertainment candidate.

"Aw yeah, this country needs more cowbell. I will not rest until this country has more cowbell."

A vote for Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is a vote for freedom. A vote for Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is a vote for progress. I'm Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator and I approve of this message.

Campaign Strategy Meeting

“Our spies, er, loyal supporters have been uncovering some great information that we can use against your opponents, Jon,” Professor Xavier, my campaign manager said. “Additionally, we have a new campaign ad planned to run at the end of this week. If your campaign continues to run as effectively as it has in the past two weeks, there’s little doubt in my mind that you will make it to the White House.”

“You’re right, Professor,” I replied. “So can I see the ad?”

“Certainly. Before I show you this, however, I wanted to ask if you have selected your running mate yet?”

“I have a few good ideas,” I said slyly.

“Really, because you see I feel that I would make an excellent vice president.”

I started to feel sort of a slight buzzing in my head, almost a faint compulsion to agree with the Professor. I decided to ignore it and explain my reasons for not selecting him.”

“I thought about that,” I said. “But ultimately, I decided against it because you’re awfully busy as the leader of the X-Men. You have to protect humanity from the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants, the Hellfire Club, and all those other supervillains.”

“Of course,” Professor Xavier replied. “However, I can easily delegate leadership to my field leaders Storm, Wolverine, or even (heaven forbid) Cyclops.”

“No really, as the veep, all you’d do all day is go to briefings and funerals and stuff. I really think that your talents would be better used elsewhere.”

“Now Jon, I am sure that my talents would be useful in all of those briefings and meetings,” the Professor insisted. “I think you should give it serious consideration.”

The unusual feeling in my head continued. It felt as if some force was attempting to subtly alter my thoughts. Perhaps something that was more powerful that could easily take over my mind but was attempting to be more delicate. I decided to drive on and tell him the real reason that I couldn’t have him as my vice president.

“OK. I’ll level with you,” I said. “The real reason I can’t have you as my running mate is because of your obvious superiority to me.”

Professor Xavier paused for a moment, his mouth hung open faintly for less than a second, then he quickly regained his composure. “Really?” he said with an eyebrow arching slightly

“Sure,” I said. “You’re obviously a smarter and more powerful man than I. What kind of an idiot would want to look like a puppet to his own vice president?”

“Ha ha, I see your point, Jon,” the Professor laughed. He seemed to relax a bit and I felt myself relax as well. “You would look very foolish if you and that’s the last thing that a president of the United States would want, I would imagine.”

(Another) Campaign Update from Your Man of Action

Support from my supporters continues to pour into my Campaign Headquarters. Information on my distinguished colleagues continues to pour in as well.



Dr. Zaius recently and dramatically lost 160 lbs (73 kg). and has been intentionally evasive about how this excess weight was dropped.

"Diet and exercise," the candidate insisted as several photographers pushed microphones in his face. "You can soon read about it in the article that I write for Glamour Magazine."



All's quiet at the Hayley Mills Celebratory Complex after an apparent dinosaur attack yesterday.

"We're all OK," said a spokesman for Sleestak's campaign. "Sleestak is fine and resting at his compound in Kennebunkport."

When asked to give further word on Sleestak's campaign, the spokesman offered no further comment.



In another surprise revelation, Samurai Frog was photographed with a plate of delicious half-eaten frog legs sitting in front of him. When asked how he could participate in something as horrible as cannibalism, he quietly sighed and said "It's not easy being green."

The Ole Meet-N-Greet

“The campaign is going along swimmingly, Jon,” Professor Xavier, my campaign manager told me. “The next item on our agenda is a meet-and-greet. Go out and press the flesh, shake a few hands, kiss a few babies. It’s very grass roots.”

“Good idea,” I said. “Kiss a few hands, shake a few babies…”

“Ah no, Jon, it’s the other way around.”

“Of course,” I answered.

“So we have you scheduled to make an appearance in your hometown of Chicago,” the Professor continued. “This is a good place to start, people love the local hero.”

“Great idea,” I said enthusiastically.

Here's a handsome baby. He gets a kiss.

Here's another good looking little boy. I bet his parents sure are proud.
Here's a beautiful baby. He looks kind of tired, but he gets a kiss.

Here's a cute little girl right next to a nice doggy. Here's a kiss for you.

Here's another sweet, innocent little girl. Look at her all bundled up there, she gets a kiss.

Here's another beautiful little kid. I'll definitely kiss her once I can find a spot that's not covered in birthday cake.

Ah, well, I think this guy's a little too young to kiss. I'm talking about the physical impossibilities of it and all.

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen for this opportunity. Remember, I am your candidate who is a man of action. Whether it's defeating Abi the Butcher in the Intergalactic Gladiatorial arena or pushing that bill through congress, I am your candidate who will make America a place of the people, by the people, and amongst the people, for the people.

A vote for Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is a vote for freedom. A vote for Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is a vote for progress. I'm Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator and I approve of this message.

Campaign Update From your Man of Action

As I, Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator, your Man of Action sit here in my hi-tech campaign headquarters located in the heart of Chicago, I am appalled by some of the information that has come in about some of my extinguished distinguished colleagues with whom I am running against.

My opponents like to talk, in fact they're doing a lot of talking but not talking about the issues. I have issues. Issues to talk about, that is. for example, everyone has a dark secret in his or her past -- I'm talking about trouble with the law. I've made no secret of the fact that I once had to serve eight hours of community service for an improper lane change. I'm not proud of my actions, but I did it and I own up to that and I am being honest and forthright about what happened.

But what about my the pasts of my opponents? For instance:



Dr. Monkey Von Monkerstein was once a wanted man. For what we don't know as all of the records seem to have disappeared. The reward offered seems awfully significant though, doesn't it? A private eye, er I mean an associate of mine was only able to dig up an old copy of this wanted poster outside of a Mobile home in Alabama. Dr. Monkey, what could you possibly have done in Alabama that would warrant such a high reward for your capture?

Dr. Smith once led the sheriff’s department of Miami-Dade County on a wild car chase through the interstates of Florida. When he was finally apprehended, the glove compartment of his automobile was found filled to the brim with Methamphetamines, OxyContin, and marshmallow fluff. What was the marshmallow fluff in there for and why isn't Dr. Smith talking?



This image of Sleestak is horrific enough, but what it is we are left to wonder. Sleestak, why don't you come clean about your shady past involving a trumpet and a bizarre one eyed alien thing?

My opponents are being very quiet about what's really going on, but I'm not. Your Man of Action is talking, and he's talking about stuff.

A vote for Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is a vote for freedom. A vote for Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is a vote for progress. I'm Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator and I approve of this message.