If the federal government functioned as efficiently as Paul Ryan’s chiseled, sinewy physique, there would be no need for hard-ass politicians such as Paul Ryan.
The Janesville, Wis., native was a conservative rock star—known for his fat-cutting budgets, muscle-building P90x workouts, and heart-stopping baby blues—long before Mitt Romney chose him as a running mate.
Highly praised by the likes of New York Times psychohistorian Paul Krugman (a “con man”) and Slate economics and philosophy expert Matthew Yglesias (a “dangerous madman”), Ryan demonstrated impressive political resilience in 2012 by successfully fighting Democrats to a draw on the controversial issue of Medicare reform.
Though Ryan ultimately did not succeed in making Joe Biden a one-term vice president, he displayed remarkable endurance by engaging in a full 90-minute conversation with the curmudgeonly train enthusiast on live television.
The more the American people came to learn about the beefcake budget wonk, the more they came to grips with an incontestable fact: Paul Ryan is a man.
An American man for American men.
They learned that as an enthusiastic supporter of the only two worthwhile sports the country has to offer—football and hunting—Ryan clings to his guns and religion (e.g., the Green Bay Packers, Catholicism) like a boss.
In his spare time, Ryan controls the Wisconsin deer population with an impressive arsenal of rifles, handguns, and crossbows. He got his 10-year-old daughter Liza a Remington youth rifle (with scope) for Christmas last year and has committed his life to making sure she will not have to spend her golden years fending off mutant scavengers in the post-apocalyptic wasteland of a fallen and bankrupt empire.
A grateful nation salutes you, Paul Ryan.