We are all Herman Cain's Wife.

or Why Herman Cain Ought to be Cock-Punched From Coast to Coast With Spiked Brass Knuckles From Now Until the Iowa Caucus.

(In which Jurassicpork taketh a semen-spattered page from the Rude Pundit and regurgitateth with much vile and scatalogical spleenitude.)

Rachel Maddow had it figured out weeks ago when she finally discovered that Herman's Cain's candidacy is really nothing more than performance art.

And just yesterday, Charles Pierce, from his elegantly nasty nest at Esquire (think of James Wolcott on a really cranky day), in his usually eloquent way, not so gently exhorted Cain to take his leave from the race like the buffoonish wedding crasher that he is.

Seriously, now, folks, and this especially goes out to you post-literate dingleberries still stubbornly clinging to the rotting rectum of Ronald Reagan while desperately trying to convince yourselves and your fellow dead-enders that the Great Communicator was reincarnated through a former pizza mogul whose greatest claim to fame was in hurtling his peoples' image back to the days of Mandingo:

It's time to finally own up to this hideously elongated joke known as the Cain Train and admit it has long since passed and that now it's up to those of us in the reality-based community to add the final exclamation point to this seemingly neverending punchline.

This man had made more passes than Tom Brady with no running game. His mind went blank when asked about Libya. His mind went blank again when Chris Wallace asked him about right of return. Both times, Cain had that elephant in the headlights look and yet his supporters still threw millions at his feet.

He's now been accused of actually scoring for 13 years in a row by a woman in Georgia and his Arizona campaign chair Lori "Annie Oakley" Klein didn't make matters better for him with her own defense. And she'd actually done better than Cain's own lawyer who, in his own spirited and speedy defense, didn't exactly deny the allegations.

His campaign spots make less sense than Fellini if he made films on purple microdot. He thinks Pokemon is a poet, got his 9-9-9 tax plan from Sim City and, for all we know, his national security strategy was based on Doom. His defiantly and proudly ignorant thoughts on other countries such as Uz-beki-beki-beki-beki-stan-stan make Rick Perry look like a foreign policy wonk.

He contradicted himself on abortion and women's rights faster than Mitt Romney on black beauties and has otherwise shown himself to be so stupendously unqualified for any public office let alone the presidency that millions of liberals are getting the dry heaves at the thought of another George W. Bush.

So here's my idea: We have SEAL Team Six abduct Herman Cain, put him in four point King Kong shackles like some right wing version of the Vitruvian Man, tour him like some village roadshow from coast to coast where anyone with a couple of bucks and a proper sense of outrage at this obscene mockery of the electoral process can then cock-punch Herman Cain from now until the caucuses.

We can sell it on PPV for $49.95 and, combined with the CPR (Cock-Punching Revenue) generate some income for schools, hospitals, unemployment benefits and infrastructure rebuilding, which immediately is a better and more humane plan for addressing these issues than anything Herman Cain and the rest of the GOP has come up with.

Seriously. Let's all punch Herman Cain so hard in his nether regions that his scrotum pops in like an inverted nipple. Because it's a masterfully sinister feat of dexterity when you can make people like Donald Trump and Sarah Palin sound like voices of reason for the Republican Party, as well as taking the heat off the other GOP psychopaths such as Rick Santorum, Newt Gingrich, Mitt Romney and Michele Bachmann.

We are all Herman Cain's wife. No doubt, there are many of us who wonder aloud or to ourselves what is keeping that woman silently and invisibly Velcro'd to her husband's hip considering all the allegations from at least six women. How loathsome do you have to be in your long-standing moral turpitude when a New Hampshire newspaper and several other conservative media outlets pass you by to go for another serial adulterer like Newt Gingrich?