Dear Ron,

It didn’t have to be this way…

As Governor DeSantis, the political landscape seemed like a red carpet laid out just for you. Applauded for your strategic handling of COVID policies, you strolled into re-election with a stellar 19-point lead, becoming the GOP's rising star destined for the 2028 spotlight. But then, the political winds shifted. The establishment, ever the puppet master, and the anti-Trump crusaders whispered sweet promises of a presidential destiny into your ear. You, sly fox, initiated a shadow campaign disguised as an innocuous "book tour" generously sponsored by the anti-Trump Murdoch empire.

At this juncture, the polls painted a picture of promise – a solid 30% support, merely 10 points shy of the indomitable Trump. Seizing the opportunity, you embarked on a strategic global tour, first stop: Japan. However, this diplomatic venture exposed a chink in your political armor – an unmistakable lack of social grace. When confronted about your presidential aspirations, you responded with a bizarre dance of head-bobbing and an overly wide grin, accompanied by the cryptic utterance, "I'm not a candidate for President." Subtlety, clearly, was not on the agenda.

Undeterred, you ventured into the heart of the financial world – the City of London. However, the applause that usually echoed in your wake seemed to have muted to a polite golf clap. The poll numbers, once poised for a steady climb, began their precipitous descent. It appeared that the more exposure you gained, the less enamored the public became.

Amid this political theater, the Biden administration descended upon Trump's Mar-A-Lago in your home state. Strangely silent and unresponsive, you opted to throw a few jabs at Trump rather than standing up for your own backyard. The gambit was clear: Trump, embroiled in legal troubles, would become an unviable candidate, leaving you to scoop up his abandoned supporters. The whisper campaign echoed, "wait 'til he announces."

wait ‘til he announces

The anticipation was palpable, mostly due to the fact the everyone already knew what was coming and just wanted to get it over with. A strategic move had been made, choosing Elon Musk's Twitter, the contemporary agora of the digital age. Yet, even the best-laid plans can falter. The announcement was marred by technical glitches, delaying the revelation by a laborious 30 minutes. Finally, when the moment arrived, it did so in audio form, devoid of the visual spectacle anticipated in a traditional televised speech. You, Governor DeSantis, were left reading a prepared statement filled with generic platitudes, a lackluster initiation for what was supposed to be a campaign launch filled with fervor and energy. Frankly, it was a failure to launch, bordering on embarrassment. But in the unyielding world of politics, the show must go on.

The tag of an official presidential candidate should, in theory, be a panacea for ailing poll numbers. A surge in support, a rallying cry from the faithful – this is what one might expect. However, reality had other plans. Instead of witnessing a meteoric rise, your poll numbers continued their accelerated descent, leaving pundits scratching their heads and your campaign strategists scrambling for answers.

Nonetheless, your campaign coffers were far from empty. Behind you stood a cadre of wealthy donors, ready to finance your political endeavors, and the Never Back Down PAC, with a war chest stocked with millions, was geared up for battle. From a financial perspective, things seemed promising. Yet, as the saying goes, money can't buy everything.

The crux of the issue lay not in the lack of financial resources or an illustrious political résumé. No, the obstacle was more personal – you, Governor DeSantis, were your own stumbling block. The world of politics has always demanded a certain finesse in interpersonal relations, an ability to connect with the electorate on a personal level. Your Achilles' heel, it appeared, was a fundamental lack of social acumen. Whether it was a restaurant in New Hampshire or a bar in Iowa, every interaction with potential voters seemed to be fraught with difficulty.

Picture this: a voter approaches, extending an opportunity for genuine connection. You, however, respond with a mere "OK" and briskly move on. It became a recurring theme, an awkward dance between disinterest and overwrought attempts at authenticity. Yet, the saving grace, your online supporters argued, was your record of implementing impactful policies. The promise was that, in the grand scheme of things, your accomplishments would overshadow any awkwardness on the campaign trail.

Speaking of online supporters, typically, having a dedicated team ready to counteract any negative narrative is a boon for any campaign. However, the character of your online battalion proved to be a double-edged sword. Instead of engaging in battles against political rivals, they launched rapid attacks on potential voters. The term "Never Back Down" took on a whole new meaning as they relentlessly labeled Republican voters as "stupid" for even contemplating someone other than you.

What was particularly disconcerting was the anonymity that shrouded these attacks. Many of these online assailants, alleged to be your staffers, adopted a professional tone on their public accounts, advocating for their boss – you. However, once concealed behind cartoonish profiles, they transformed into vicious digital hounds, seeking to maul anyone daring to question your supremacy.

The damage, unfortunately, didn't end with verbal assaults. An alarming development emerged as your online supporters, allegedly in coordination with your campaign, crafted a meme campaign ad featuring Nazi imagery. The intent and target of this ad remained shrouded in mystery, but the implications were undeniable – a campaign caught in the crossfire of its own questionable tactics.

Yet, as the saying goes, a fish rots from the head down. While you might have maintained a grasp on the sentiments of the GOP base, your chosen advisors seemed to have lost touch. The belief that the base, or the MAGA movement, were nothing more than a congregation of Nazi-loving right-wing extremists became apparent in your campaign's misguided decision to release an ad with Nazi imagery. Yet, amidst this swirl of chaos, let's not lose sight of the main character in this political drama – you, Governor DeSantis.

With the first GOP debate looming on the horizon, optimism wavered but did not extinguish. As your poll numbers continued their downward trajectory and new contenders entered the fray, the debate was painted as a pivotal moment. The face-off was anticipated to be a stage where you could reclaim the spotlight, showcase your strengths, and present yourself as a worthy contender.

Yet, fate had a different script in mind. An unknown biotech businessman, Vivek Ramaswamy, emerged as a formidable player, gaining ground in the polls by articulating the desires of voters with unapologetic conviction. Vivek seemed to be running the kind of campaign that, perhaps, you should have considered. Your PAC, sensing a threat, urged you to be aggressive, and the debate memo found its way into the hands of the media.

the first debate

Debate night unfolded, a tableau set for redemption. But, alas, the anticipated grandeur eluded you. Despite standing center stage, bathed in the spotlight, you found yourself relegated to the periphery. Your answers, though undoubtedly prepared, lacked the spontaneity expected in a live debate. Vivek became the focal point, weathering attacks as if he were the undeniable frontrunner. Remaining off-camera, for the most part, became a mixed blessing, sparing the public from witnessing awkward facial contortions but also denying you the chance to seize the spotlight.

The lasting image of that night, etched in the digital memory, was a viral meme capturing a moment where you proclaimed, "I will not let you down!" followed by what could only be described as one of the most forced and off-putting smiles in recent political history. A cringe-worthy visual that ricocheted across the internet, becoming a symbol of a debate night gone awry.

A crucial moment arose during the debate, a chance to dispel doubts about your commitment to the MAGA movement. The moderator tossed a provocative question into the arena – who would support Donald Trump if he were convicted? Vivek's hand shot up, met with cheers from the crowd. You, caught in the moment, hesitated before raising your hand halfway – a tepid response from a leader expected to provide unequivocal support.

As the narrative shifts towards the pivotal state of Iowa, where the first electoral battleground awaits, it's essential to ponder the journey that brought you here. How did a closed-door meeting, filled with assurances of your inevitable rise to the GOP nominee, transform into a narrative of plummeting poll numbers and alienation from the GOP base?

The fundamental question arises – how did someone hailed for possessing impeccable political instincts and an uncanny knack for making the right decisions find themselves ensnared in a web of political missteps? Tackling Donald Trump, a political force reshaping the GOP, was always a Herculean task. His unique brand of politics, defying convention and tradition, demanded a nuanced approach. He had redefined the Republican Party into a working-class force, and it was within this altered landscape that you embarked on your campaign.

Iowa or bust

With the first debate behind you and Lady Luck seemingly preoccupied, it's essential to recognize that, until the votes are cast, the polls remain a mere snapshot in time. Historically, a win in an early primary state has served as a springboard to the nomination. Winning Iowa, the inaugural primary, could indeed be a feat of extraordinary proportions, providing the momentum needed to triumph in subsequent states like New Hampshire and South Carolina.

However, the catch with an "All or nothing in Iowa" strategy is the uniqueness of Iowa itself. Its electorate, particularly those participating in caucuses, deviates significantly from the broader national electorate. Older, whiter, and more evangelical, Iowa's voter demographics demand a tailored approach. In a bid to appeal to this unique subset, your campaign adopted far-right positions on cultural issues, championing a 6-week abortion ban. While this stance might energize the religious right in Iowa, it risks alienating the broader national audience.

The abortion issue, intended as a strategic move to win over Iowa, unexpectedly became a liability. The gamble to court a specific demographic backfired, attracting criticism for veering towards authoritarianism and encroaching on individual freedoms. Such a policy, though potentially palatable in Iowa, faced outright rejection in other states like New Hampshire and across the nation.

Your quest to secure a respectable position in Iowa or potentially clinch victory necessitates consolidating the segment of the GOP that harbors reservations about Trump (around 15-20%) and persuading some Trump supporters to rally behind you. Striking this balance proves to be a delicate dance; appealing to Trump supporters might risk alienating anti-Trump voters. Unfortunately, your approach seemed to exacerbate the issue. Instead of critiquing Trump himself, you audaciously targeted his voters, labeling them as "listless vessels" on a national stage. A bold move, indeed – though one might argue, more foolish than strategic.

The overarching challenge has been the erosion of trust with the Trump voter. No longer seen as a savior but rather as a pawn of the establishment, your campaign is perceived as a weapon wielded against their beloved Donald Trump. While your motivations may stem from a genuine love for the country and a desire to restore it to its former glory, the Trump voter fails to see it that way. The alliance with "Never-Trump" figures and the backing of numerous billionaires, figures despised by the GOP base, further deepened the chasm. While an opportunity existed to rebuild trust, your decision to attack the voters directly became a counterproductive move.

neocon nikki on the rise

Amidst the turbulent currents of your campaign, a glimmer of hope surfaced on the horizon. The formidable businessman, Vivek Ramaswamy, who had captured the GOP's attention, began to witness a decline in his initial popularity. He stood as a significant threat, second only to Trump, in the race for the nomination. Yet, this optimism was fleeting, swiftly replaced by a new contender - the former South Carolina Governor and UN ambassador, Nikki Haley.

In stark contrast to the evolving face of the Republican Party, Nikki Haley represented a familiar strain, an old guard Republican, often labeled as a neoconservative. Her political ideology seemed rooted in the interests of corporations rather than the needs of the people. This posed a considerable challenge to your candidacy, as the anti-Trump faction within the GOP was expected to rally behind you exclusively. The emergence of a competitor threatened to split this crucial voter base, potentially jeopardizing any path to victory. There was a glimmer of hope that Nikki might follow a trajectory similar to Vivek – a brief surge followed by a decline.

Unfortunately, the anticipated brevity of the "Haley bump" did not materialize. Instead, it gained momentum and displayed remarkable staying power. In national polling, Nikki Haley found herself in a dead heat with you, and she not only overtook you in New Hampshire and South Carolina but did so with a sense of palpable momentum. Adding salt to the wound, your pool of billionaire backers, once seen as an unwavering source of financial support, began to shift allegiance, throwing their weight behind Haley.

Once positioned by the establishment as the formidable force with the potential to defeat Trump, you found yourself eclipsed by a new vessel – Nikki Haley. The dynamics of the political landscape were shifting, and the very establishment that once championed you had redirected its gaze toward this fresh contender. The winds of change, it seemed, were blowing against your sails, steering the narrative away from the envisioned triumph and towards an uncertain future.

On a positive note, Nikki Haley seems to have earned a distinct unpopularity within the GOP base, a sentiment that works in your favor. When voters are probed about their second choices, you lead her by a considerable margin. In scenarios where Donald Trump isn't a viable option, you emerge as the clear favorite. However, these scenarios rest on the hypothetical, and the looming presence of Trump, displaying no inclination to exit the race, complicates matters. Nikki Haley, in this context, becomes a significant hurdle for your campaign.

As the subsequent debates unfolded, they failed to inject vitality into your campaign. The lackluster affairs did little to distinguish you, lacking those memorable moments that could have elevated your standing. If anything, the enduring memories from these encounters tended to be the awkward facial expressions and demeanor that characterized your presence on the debate stage. However, there was a new twist in the tale, a rumor that took root and added an unexpected dimension to the narrative – the infamous #Bootgate.

#bootgate

The saga began innocuously enough with a TikTok video that gained traction, showcasing your boots folding in a manner inconsistent with conventional footwear. The hashtag, undoubtedly fueled by Trump surrogates, swiftly gained momentum, thrusting the political sphere into a whirlwind of speculation. The decision to consistently sport cowboy boots, an odd choice for someone not hailing from Texas but rather a Florida native, became a focal point of contention. In a world where political optics matter, #Bootgate took center stage.

The storm reached its zenith during an appearance on the Patrick Bet-David podcast, where the host confronted you about the viral videos alleging the use of height-enhancing boots. The video evidence presented clearly showed a misalignment of your feet within the boots. You adopted an air of surprise and disbelief at the accusation, vehemently asserting your height to be 5'11" and claiming to wear only off-the-rack boots with no customizations or inserts. However, public skepticism only intensified in the face of your declarations. It wasn't just an issue of potential embellishments about your height; now, there were allegations of lying about the lies.

The controversy deepened when Politico delved into the matter, conducting an expose and consulting three experts on the subject. Their unanimous conclusion painted a different picture – lifts were indeed present. The question of whether you wore lifts in your boots transcended the realm of social media gossip, becoming a serious inquiry with political implications. In a world where perception can dictate political fortunes, the #Bootgate controversy threatened to leave an indelible mark on your campaign, adding a layer of complexity that was certainly not part of the original strategy.

desantis vs newsom

Navigating the treacherous waters of a faltering campaign demands ingenuity and, at times, unconventional strategies to rekindle the flame. In the current narrative of your presidential bid, unconventional means have not favored you thus far. However, desperate times often call for desperate measures.

When the notion of a DeSantis vs. Newsom debate first surfaced, you initially rejected the idea. This was in the early stages, before the tumultuous challenges of your campaign fully unfolded. The question lingered – why would a presidential candidate engage in a debate with someone not vying for the same office? Well, Ron, desperate times necessitated desperate actions. Despite your initial reluctance, it became apparent that traditional approaches were failing to reverse the trend of waning support. The crowded GOP debates offered limited opportunities for you to truly shine.

As circumstances evolved, the prospect of a one-on-one debate with the governor of California, Gavin Newsom, emerged as a potential game-changer. With Sean Hannity moderating, a presumed ally in your corner, the stage was set for a showdown. A comparison between Florida and California seemed to work in your favor, with Florida claiming the top spot as people fled California to escape rising crime, homelessness, and, as you poignantly highlighted, the prevalence of unsanitary conditions in the streets.

In this head-to-head, Newsom possessed a certain charm and a seemingly effortless ability to spin untruths. Throughout the debate, he artfully denied basic facts about his state, all the while maintaining a smile and an air of compassion – a skill set you, as yet, have not fully mastered.

The debate, however, came and went without leaving a lasting imprint. While your comedic relief, brandishing a poop map of San Francisco, injected a moment of levity, it also opened the door for detractors to paint you in a less favorable light. In the midst of discussing a serious issue like mental health, your pivot to the topic of feces detracted from the gravity of the conversation. Unfortunately, the debate did not serve the intended purpose, and the hoped-for memorable moments failed to materialize. The quest for a campaign revival through unconventional means encountered yet another hurdle, leaving you at a crossroads in this intricate political journey.

the end approaches

Well, Ron, as we stand on the precipice of the Iowa caucuses, the outlook appears rather grim. Barring an unforeseen miracle, Donald Trump seems poised to clinch victory in Iowa, and the margin won't be a close call. It's a pivotal moment, and you've invested heavily in Iowa – a state that, if not won, could potentially signal the end of the road for your presidential aspirations.

The numbers tell a sobering tale. Currently seated in 5th place in New Hampshire and 3rd in South Carolina, even in your home state of Florida, the political landscape seems overwhelmingly against you, with a daunting 40-point deficit. The stark reality of these statistics paints a picture of a campaign struggling to gain traction and facing an uphill battle in key battlegrounds.

The true tragedy of this unfolding narrative lies in the realization that it didn't have to unfold this way. The alternative path, accepting the VP position, could have positioned you favorably for a presidential bid in 2028. Whether it was a case of hubris or perhaps influenced by your wife's ambition, the gamble of taking on Donald Trump now threatens to cast a long shadow over your political career.

The adage holds true – when you're at the top, the only way forward is down. Ron, you once occupied a prominent position, lauded for your strategic handling of COVID policies and hailed as a rising star within the GOP. However, the decision to challenge the formidable force of Trump might have set in motion a series of events that could reshape the trajectory of your political future. The stakes are high, and the road ahead seems fraught with challenges, prompting reflection on whether the pursuit of the presidency was worth the potential toll on a once-ascendant political career.