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I am a fan of underdogs. I’m a New York Rangers fan. I can’t help but like Danny Woodhead. I rooted for Rocky Balboa (except, ironically, in Rocky Balboa, which I refused to see). But I don’t get this fascination with Herman Cain.

Let’s go back to before Cain was accused by five different women of five different, independent acts of sexual harassment. The times when Cain was adored by GOP primary voters as an outsider whose 9-9-9 tax plan was hailed as a simple, transformative means through which to reform the U.S. tax code – so simple that it took Cain himself weeks to figure out the details. When, if you’ll remember, Cain’s focal qualification for deciding whether to deploy America’s nuclear arsenal was his success selling really shitty, tasteless pizza. Or was it his foreign policy credentials? (Uzbeki-beki-beki-bekistan anyone?)

None of Cain’s startling under qualifications seemed to bother you, middle America. It’s only now, after five separate women have alleged that Cain sexually harassed them in five independent episodes (did I mention that already?) that Cain has to answer tough questions for the first time.

Why can’t can’t we just call a spade a spade? I’m sure Herman Cain is a nice enough guy (which, incidentally, is the likeliest explanation for his five different acts of sexual harassment – he’s just guilty of being too nice) but how in the world does anyone in their right mind think he’s the guy to lead the world out of the global debt crisis? Or our own debt crisis? Or, for that matter, the Iranian nuclear crisis?

I mean, come on. Let’s be honest with ourselves. Picture Herman Cain in the Oval Office. Now picture a CNN breaking news alert that Iran has announced it has developed fully capable nuclear weapons. Now picture Herman Cain in the Oval Office again. Still a fan?

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