hursday's meeting of the minds between the ten prominent candidates for the Democratic presidential nomination at Manhattan's Pace University may not have provided a clear front-runner, but it did haul in a net full of fresh catchphrases. All candidates involved tried to sum up the complicated problems of the U.S. and international affairs into humorous phrases or puns, jabbing incessantly at each other's records and universally condemning President Bush as a major jerkoff.

The lead attraction for the afternoon, besides the boyish good looks of Sen. John Edwards, was the debut of retired Army Gen. Wesley Clark. The former NATO commander lobbed the first polite volley of the day with his backhanded compliment in opening remarks: "I'm happy to join such an esteemed group of Democratic colleagues. I can't believe you're all trailing Bush in the polls."

Clark also dealt one of the earliest catchphrases in the debate in slamming the Bush administration. "We elected a president we thought was a compassionate conservative. Instead, we got neither conservatism or compassion." A solid good start to political soundbytes, though Clark erred in claiming Bush had been elected.

Pace University Political Science professor Ingrid Northam explained the importance of a political catchphrase in an election, to sum up the heart of one's platform to Americans surfing the TV and too busy to actually seek information on candidates. But more importantly, for a field of Democrats all failing to stimulate voter interest, catchphrases can be a make-or-break way of establishing a personality the voters can appreciate. It allows them to differentiate between candidates, and the right catchphrase could put a failing candidacy right back on track. It was extremely interesting stuff and well-spoken, and this reporter regrets not having written any of it down.

After initial platforms were summarized, the catchphrase cannonade really began. Massachusetts Sen. John Kerry knocked Bush tax cuts, claiming, "President Bush calls cutting taxes for the richest Americans, 'tax relief.' Well, you know how I spell relief, Mr. President? J-O-B-S." The audience hooted and hollered as if free beer were served, and afterward nothing could stem the flow of nifty slogans.

Rep. Dick Gephardt's strategy was to attack frontrunner Howard Dean. "Dean called Medicare the 'worst Federal program ever.' He sided with Newt Gingrich on a $270 billion cut in Medicare. Governor, for a man with the name Dean, you got no class."

Dean angrily retorted, "What kind of name is Gephardt? The dumb kind, you ask me." But most irksome to the major contender was the comparison to Newt Gingrich, which Dean vehemently denied, saying, "Nobody up here deserves to be compared to Newt Gingrich." the commune contacted Newt Gingrich for a response, but upon being told he was Newt Gingrich the former Speaker of the House flew into a rage and threatened to sue us if we printed such slander.

The debate proved most successful for those already leading the pack, analysts said. Trailing candidates failed to make much headway, and some contribute it to coming to the debate ill-prepared for catchphrases. Sen. John Edwards declared, "I keep coming back like the clap," to no effect on the audience. Carol Mosley Braun failed to gain much ground with her new slogan, "Who am I? Let's find out together!" However, Al Sharpton reportedly managed to add a few points to his demographics with the rattling shout of, "Who's up for ribs?" It was newcomer Clark, however, who made the most initial impact from his first debate appearance, closing his part in the debate, "Tanks for your nomination."

fter failing to impress voters with his thick accent and scripted responses in Wednesday's California Governor debate, famous Aryan Arnold Schwarzenegger announced a new addition to his campaign Friday: A bust of former president and oppressor Ronald Reagan.

The bust, a one-foot sculpture of the B-movie actor and monkey sidekick, is apparently bronze in nature and a perfect representation of the ex-president since it no longer smiles either. The real Reagan, a senile old fart who hasn't made a public appearance in a decade, could not be reached for comment.

Schwarzenegger made the announcement at a press conference on the afternoon of Sept. 26, at a small charity dinner the press were barred from attending. Reading from his teleprompter, America's purest white man told cameras in a sealed room somewhere, "Ronald Reagan was good for America. Arnold Schwarzenegger is good for America. We are a team, me and the statue. I hate to be the bad guy who meets us in a dark alley."

The addition of the paperweight to the campaign followed several recent additions to the Schwarzenegger team, including Rob Lowe and, most recently, Republican Bill Simon. Schwarzenegger is likely trying to keep heat on his campaign after taking recent hits on his views on sisters and a poor showing in Wednesday's recall election candidate debate. Bringing on an image of the popular former president could tie Schwarzenegger's campaign to Reagan's success in the minds of Californians already beat into submission by endless recall election coverage.

Critics call the addition a misguided attempt to liven up a very uncreative campaign. Schwarzenegger's celebrity and deep pockets have failed to buy him much good press in his candidacy, and his numbers with female voters have failed to grow following the revelation of misogynistic statements he made in a 1970s poontang magazine. Women also failed to come around to Schwarzenegger's campaigns after he threatened to kill fellow recall candidate Ariana Huffington Wednesday night. Representatives of women voters were also not impressed when Schwarzenegger offered to make a pinup of Stephanie Seymour a consultant to his campaign.

However, in all the clamor about the importance of women in the California recall race, little attention has been paid to the black voter. the commune attempted to contact the League of African-American Voters of California only to find out there wasn't one. In fact, records indicate there are only 14 registered black voters in the state. Of those, four are rap stars, three are actors, and five are the starting lineup of the Lakers. The remaining two were other California recall candidates.

An insider in the Austrian-American's candidacy say the bust of Reagan will mostly be a figurehead in the Schwarzenegger campaign, but if it has any valid suggestions they will be taken into consideration. The advantage, he said, of having an inorganic chunk of metal occupying a role in the campaign is that, once elected, it does not have to be given a cabinet position. Schwarzenegger is not ruling out making the bust lieutenant governor, though.

I don't remember anything from last night, I was comatoast. I'm not kidding, I fell in with this fast crowd of Olympic blood-dopers I met at GNC when I was there pricing one of those camelsack things you wear on your back so you can piss on the go. And everything's pretty much all a blur after that. It got a little weird at one point, I think I woke up in a closed library with torn-out book pages papier-mâchéd all over my naked body, but thankfully the next blackout warped me back home. So all's well that ends, like they say. I think I may have ran a marathon in there somewhere, because my feet are hella sore, but I'd still say partying with reckless Olympians isn't bad as far as hobbies go.

Especially when my other main hobby is throwing away paperclips, pretty boring. I'm not kidding, my trash can sounds like a sleigh bell whenever the janitors try to move that thing. Whenever I get something that's paperclipped together, that little metal doohag goes straight in the trash, because fuck you if you don't think I can keep my shit together without your help. I resent that, and if I wasn't making your memo into a naked origami chick, that shit would be filed right where it belongs, under the corner of my desk that's all lopsided from when I had my office outside last summer. I still laugh when I think of those wimpy little neighborhood kids dropping my desk while they were schlepping it back up the stairs. You don't know funny until you've seen six little third graders screaming and scurrying away from a desk that's cartwheeling down a stairwell like some kind of berserk wooden monster.

Speaking of the office, I guess the big news around here is that Red Bagel's dad died last week, some kind of buffalo-smoking accident. And I know exactly what you're thinking, but I already asked and apparently he ran a buffalo jerky shack in Wisconsin somewhere. Though if you ask me that sounds like an answer designed to avoid the question, and I'm still not convinced the man wasn't some kind of High-Plains pervert. I decided not to push the matter further out of respect for the dead, but you know I'm going to hit the 'Net hard to get to the bottom of these buffalo-smoking allegations.

Anyway, the big Sixth Sense whammo surprise of the whole deal is that it turns out Bagel's dad actually owned the commune, he won it in a poker game with a mute Indian or some shit years ago, and so now it's been passed on to Red and his half-brother Gay Bagel. No shit, a surprise brother! Makes me wonder who's gonna come out of the closet when I die. Next thing we know this Gay Bagel shows up and spontaneously craps out a kidney when he realizes the commune has accidentally qualified as a non-profit organization for three years running, due to the fact that we don't make any money and Rok Finger once had a girl scout sleepover party at his house.

While they were gurneying Gay Bagel out of here and the EMTs were looking around under the desks for that kidney so they could put it on ice, he was mumbling some shit about making a ton of profit-milking changes around here so that his inheritance wasn't pissed down a river. Something like that. I don't know if that means we're going to get some new columnists with big tits or what, but I'm all for giving that a shot. Far be it from Omar Bricks to stand the way of progress, I might even have time to download JPEGs of some ideal candidates while I'm researching this buffalo-smoking story. Shit, I may even end up breaking Red Bagel's 57-month streak of "commune Employee of the Month" awards while I'm at it, hot damn.

Bricks out.

º Last Column: Double Stuff It Up Your Ass
º more columns