The following is satirical.
Beto O’Rourke has dropped out of the 2020 presidential race.
The man who once said he was born to run for president, discovered that, in fact, he was born to run for president, then sink lower and lower in the polls while he began desperately spewing increasingly inane, unconstitutional and anti-American nonsense, until he had so utterly humiliated himself and any noble cause he once may have mistakenly thought he represented that even audiences holding printed instructions on when to cheer felt their attention drifting and began to wish they had joined the political party that still eats at Chick-fil-A, where the sandwiches are just so very, very good.
Beto was born to then resign in lonely disgrace and, having already literally eaten dirt after his defeat in the Texas Senate race, he was born to try to find something even more disgusting to put in his mouth to mark what is almost certainly the end of an ill-conceived political career.
It seems like only yesterday Beto was a floppy-haired make-believe Kennedy who displayed a puppy-like enthusiasm as he grabbed the Constitution in his teeth and shook it to tatters, and now, like the protagonist of a Greek tragedy who understands the full scope of his destiny only too late, O’Rourke must wander the world seeking some way to cope with the fact that this — this complete ruin, this utter failure — this was what he was born for.
It would take a heart of stone not to sympathize with a man born for such a life, and yet when we think back on how he declared America a racist country, how he threatened to completely ignore the Second Amendment of the very Constitution he would have sworn to uphold in the horror-slash-fantasy world in which he became president, I think we must reflect that the gods are just and say, in the immortal words of Sophocles, “So long, schmuck. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out. Unless you were born for that too.”