Kamala My House

An investigation of exploitable puns concerning the Democrats' new standard-bearer.

I had a feeling, when I referred to the Kamala Harris campaign in my latest New Republic piece as “Kamalot,” that I might not be the first, and so I tried not to preen. It turns out New York magazine beat me by four days, which is an eternity in this business. No matter. Punning headlines have fallen into disfavor in this digital age because they aren’t sufficiently descriptive or hard-hitting. This joyless reality risks depriving pun-loving Baby Boomers of various potential headlines and campaign slogans:

Kamala Obscura

(editorial when the candidate’s meaning isn’t clear)

I’d Walk A Mile For A Kamal(a)

I Am A Kamala

(are these too long for a bumper-sticker?)

Kamala As You Are

(invitation for informal fundraiser)

Kamalakaze*

(editorial when the candidate is behaving in a way that hurts her campaign)

Kamala My House

(for the next George Clooney fundraiser)

Come One, Kamala

(invitation for an even more informal fundraiser)

I’d better stop before this gets embarrassing. (Too late, I can hear my children saying.) My New Republic piece is a qualified endorsement of calling Trump weird, which has the benefit of freeing Democrats from their usual bedwetting about the threat Trump poses to democracy, which is real enough but doesn’t interest swing voters. But it’s also premised on social exclusion, which is a little bit snotty and may eventually backfire. You can read the piece here. Kamala and get it!

*Originally this was Kamakaze, but reader Robert Schlesinger, who has been editing my TNR copy for much of this summer—and who even in his off hours can’t resist improving what I write—advised me that Kamalakaze was better, and he is right.