Veeps hold heated debate, much mud slung.

While most election-year followers ponder questions on Clinton's character and Dole's tax plan, I'm still trying to figure out what the heck a pundit is.

With the changing of the leaves comes the intense final weeks of the long drawn-out political season.

Thank God.

I'm not looking forward to the presidential election so much as I am looking forward to it being over. For me, November just means working late on a Tuesday and torturing myself to make an informed decision for one of two guys to lead our country, both whom I really can't stand.

Many Americans love this time of year, with all the polls, debates, political radio and television commentators and coffee-shop chat. Not me; I hate it. It doesn't take long for me to lose interest and begin to long for Thanksgiving when the only thing pre-empting our regular TV shows is football.

Don't get me wrong, I'm as interested as the next guy as who has the better tax plan, which would be not at all.

I quietly listen to political discussions and nod at whomever's speaking, inserting an occasional "Quite right," or "Absolutely." In actuality, I'm carrying on a much more important debate in my head: "I wonder who would win in a fight between Superman and Spiderman, and since they're from different universes, how could they meet?"

That's silly, right? Everyone knows that Superman would beat the tar out of the wallcrawler.

Seriously, at 24, I've just become kind of disenchanted with politics. I can't muster up any conviction for either party or their candidates. I'm not rich enough to be a Republican and not flighty enough to be a Democrat.

My first signs of disgruntlement begins with political debates.

I understand that debates are our chance to meet and understand the candidates and what they stand for. Lots of people attend as many local debates and watch as many national debates as they can. But I stopped watching debates years ago because even the lamest are described as heated.

"I respect you, sir," Kemp says to Gore, cutting him to the quick.

"And I you," Gore retorts.

After the collective audience "ooooh," Jim Lehrer sighs and says, "Take it easy boys."

I have a weird sort of way of determining who I vote for, too. I do listen to candidates and contemplate their stands on issues (when they will tell you what they are).

But, like most of you, I think my vote is cast because of the more important issues: Who has a better tie? Who has the prettiest wife? Who tells a better joke?

And I have to tell you, I'm not impressed with either candidate this year, on these and other issues.

Bill "I-didn't-even-breathe-air-in-the-'60s" Clinton seems to be a shyster/hustler who is a bit too much like me to be any good as president. Beer buddy, yes. Leader of the free world, I don't think so.

I think he'd be a better debater if the topic was Liv Tyler vs. Alicia Silverstone.

And could I pay someone in the media to stop forcing pictures of his flopping lard-belly while he jogs up and down Pennsylvania Avenue with a cheeseburger? He drops a few points in the polls every time that happens.

On the other hand, Bob "I-was-on-the-ark" Dole, strikes me as a mean-spirited kind of guy who chuckles about starving children over beers with Newt.

And Dole, while he doesn't have Clinton's big belly, seems like the big bully type? Couldn't you just see him giving Boris Yeltsin a wedgie or Benjamin Netanyahu noogies?

It's enough to make you vote for Ross Perot.

Scott Moyers is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.