Thinking about Client Eastwood the other night...

Immersed in the unexpected satirical dialogue with an empty chair, I thought why do we have elections anyway? The line between serious and funny morphed into the sad and pathetic. Poor Client, a man of major significance, with Dr. Emmett Brown hair managed in two hands full of minutes reduce himself to cognitive deficiency before millions of people, mock a sitting president at the same time he demonstrated significant disregard for facts.

The extent to which any of this was funny lies not in the lines themselves, but the fact the the convention handlers allowed this miscarriage of both fact and humor to eat up one sixth of the national TV coverage
prime hour on the mos significant night of the convention. Who was responsible and what might they have been smoking?