The Vice Presidential Debate: Midwestern Nice Meets Political Showdown

Last night, in the bustling heart of New York City, America witnessed what might just be the most underwhelming showdown of the 2024 election cycle: the vice presidential debate. Yes, the big event everyone pretended to care about before scrolling back to their social media feeds.

Hosted with all the pomp and circumstance one expects from a political event that no one really believes will matter, the debate featured two gentlemen who seem to have a lot in common—and yet spent 90 minutes throwing subtle jabs disguised as Midwestern politeness. Welcome to the fascinating world of Tim Walz and JD Vance, the Midwestern dads battling for the title of America’s second-in-command.

Stakes? What Stakes?

Let’s be honest—vice presidential debates are the political equivalent of a participation trophy. The stakes? As Michael Kosta so eloquently put it, “One of these men will lose, and we’ll never hear from him again. And the other one will become VP, and we’ll never hear from him again.” It’s the political equivalent of a high school popularity contest where the winners and losers all go back to being regular kids.

Yet the news media, always desperate to grab eyeballs, went all-in, hailing this event as “the biggest vice presidential debate in modern history.” Cue the dramatic music and overly serious news anchors desperately trying to sound like this is the political Super Bowl.

If you were using your TV for something genuinely important—say, your grandma’s life support—it was probably time to pull the plug.

Meet the Candidates: The Midwestern Dads Edition

Tim Walz, Minnesota Governor and the “neighbor from Home Improvement” (because apparently that’s a defining credential these days), went head-to-head with JD Vance, Ohio Senator and man described as having the social skills of ChatGPT. Both are Midwestern dads, both veterans, both anti-Trump, and both fans of The Shawshank Redemption—though, ironically, neither could resist throwing a little shade at each other like a couple of high schoolers at a football game.

Walz accused Vance of being “weird” and “fancy,” lamenting the fact that Vance is a Yale-educated philosophy major. The underlying message? Yale elites don’t get us regular folks. Meanwhile, Vance fired back with accusations of stolen valor and claimed Walz might not actually love his wife—because nothing says “political debate” like questioning your opponent’s marriage.

The Handshake Heard ‘Round Minnesota

Speaking of love, one of the more eyebrow-raising moments came when Walz greeted his wife with a firm handshake after a rally. Yes, a handshake. If you’re picturing a warm hug or a kiss, think again. Midwestern charm at its finest—or at least the strangest third base you’ve ever heard of.

JD Vance couldn’t resist the opportunity to poke fun, and Michael Kosta’s advice? “Come on, Tim, finger blast your wife, dude. It’s a rally, not a funeral.”

Lowering Expectations Like Pros

Both candidates wisely engaged in the classic pre-debate strategy: lowballing their own debating skills. Walz admitted he was nervous and a bad debater, while Vance’s champion, Donald Trump, helpfully called him a “moron” to soften the blow. If that was subtle, it was also pretty effective—setting the bar so low that even a mediocre performance would seem like a win.

Meanwhile, the moderators tried a new approach to fact-checking—no live corrections during the debate, just a QR code on the screen linking to a real-time fact check. Because when you’re trying to keep TV drama high, why ruin the moment by calling out lies in front of 50 million viewers? Let the dozen nerds with smartphones deal with it later.

Civility: An Unexpected Plot Twist

Unlike the previous Trump-era debates, these two didn’t scream over each other or insult family members. In fact, they seemed to genuinely get along, agreeing on several issues and even complimenting each other’s points. It was a debate full of “I agree with you” and “You make a good point”—which might sound boring, but hey, civility is a breath of fresh air in politics.

The downside? Boredom. No viral moments. No cat-eating scandals. No awkward fly-on-the-head incidents. Just two grown men politely discussing policy.

When Things Got Heated… Sort Of

At one point, JD Vance got a little too enthusiastic and kept talking past the moderators, forcing them to cut his microphone. It was a rare moment of actual debate tension, and honestly, a moment many viewers probably wished they had a “mute politician” button for in real life.

Unexpected Insights

The debate wasn’t entirely dull. Walz surprised some by quoting the Bible—a move that, ironically, stole some Republican rhetoric. “Matthew 25:40 talks about ‘to the least amongst us, you do unto me,’” he said, reminding us that politicians sometimes borrow from each other’s playbooks when it suits them.

Vance showed a surprisingly moderate stance on abortion, advocating for states to decide their own policies. “We can be a big and diverse country where we respect people’s freedom of conscience,” he said, attempting to sell the GOP as more nuanced than the usual talking points.

The Elephant (or Tank) in the Room

Walz’s one shaky moment came when he struggled to explain the timeline of his presence in Hong Kong during the Tiananmen Square protests in 1989. The media quickly fact-checked, revealing some discrepancies that made him look less than confident. Cue the awkward silence and the famously nervous laugh.

Vance, on the other hand, was smooth and confident throughout. Maybe a bit too smooth—his memory faltered when praising Trump-era economic policies that didn’t quite line up with reality. But hey, confidence goes a long way in politics.

The Takeaway: Why It Probably Doesn’t Matter

Despite the media hype, the vast majority of voters won’t be tuning in to the vice presidential debates. The fact is, most Americans barely know who the VP candidates are, let alone what they stand for. And after 90 minutes of Midwestern politeness and handshake awkwardness, it’s easy to see why.

Michael Kosta summed it up best: this was an “oasis of Midwestern nice,” a polite mask over a deep-seated political rivalry. These two men represent very different visions for America—visions that will surely clash again once the cameras turn off.

So, while this debate might not have changed any minds or produced viral moments, it did remind us of one important thing: sometimes, politics can be civil, and sometimes, it can just be boring as hell.