A portrait of Eugene Grant looking like president-grade material. He looks seriously trustworthy.

Hi, my name is Eugene Grant and I A flag waving in the breezeLOVEAnother flag waving in the breeze the United States of America!

In 2008 I ran a campaign for office. The media wrote us off and said we didn't have a chance; that the country wasn't ready for a "straight shooter"; that our problems were so intractable that the only "solution" was to "stick" with the "same old tried and failed" methods.

Though we came in last I know that we pushed the conversation forward and that our service to the country did not go unappreciated. I want to thank all our loyal supporters who've stuck with us through the years, and of course God; never stop fighting for a brighter future together. God bless you and God bless these phenomenal United States.

Eugene Grant

Campaign Staff

Chief Strategist
W. Bill Wilcox-Hickok, Junior

Mr. Wilcox-Hickok is the only chief strategist in history to have been named chief strategist for seven separate simultaneous campaigns, all during the same election cycle, making him the "go-to guy for any politico wanting to tell the public how to think," according to Tough Politico Magazine.

Wilcox-Hickok was attracted to Eugene in early 2007 as the result of a wacky happenstance. "I picked up the phone from a random number," Mr. Wilcox-Hickoc recounts, "and there was Eugene with those smooth talking lips of his talking about the economy and his solutions, and gosh-darned-damned if five minutes later I didn't have a job as his chief strategist. What can I say, the guy is persuasive; and that's supposed to be my job!"

The rest, as they say, is history.

Media Advisor
Mr. Vacation

"I knew I couldn't sit this one out," says Mr. Vacation. "Too much is at stake. We've got bail outs, we've got wars, we've got poverty. We've got men dressing up like women and women dressing up like men. Somebody had to step up and say something, and I believe that someone is Eugene."

Mr. Vacation lives and breathes the intersection of politics, advertising and advocacy on behalf of candidates, foundations, government agencies and corporate clients. He served as senior advisor in multiple campaigns, taking a lead role in each cycle's half-billion dollar advertising effort and helping direct the campaign as part of the core strategic team.

Over the years, Mr. Vacation has been honored with dozens of awards and gained national and international recognition for his work. Before joining Eugene, Mr. Vacation ran a nationally recognized combination BBQ Restaurant and Laundromat in Topeka, Kansas, and was named one of Business Magazine's "Top 30 under 30."

Campaign Manager
D. "Defense" Zilla

D. is truly a man of the trenches. Born near the coal mine that Eugene Grant, senior, fondly referred to as "The Happiest Place in America", "Defense" (as he's known amongst his closest family) knew from an early age that his calling was politics. "Waking up to the smell of coal every morning has a way of getting your priorities straight," says Defense.

Defense lobbied, unsuccessfully, to draft Eugene senior into a life in politics. When he demurred, Defense turned to the son, where he found a kindred spirit. "With Eugene, I just felt like this is a guy who could be president. He knows how to speak and he knows how to write and he knows how to sing. He's the whole package."

D. Zilla currently holds an adjunct position at Georgetown University Law Center, where he sorts mail, and is considered one of Washington's leading experts on technology policy and the federal budget. He's written a book, Mining our Elders, exploring the extended metaphor between coal mines and seniors.

Cookin' With Eugene

Here we discuss my plan to fix this country's budget crisis. I explain my complicated solutions via an extended metaphor to cooking, a hobby most people find relatable to their own lives.

Media

Live events

We hosted numerous live rallies and were supported by many people.

Live Rally, Trash Bar, 6.16.08

Live Rally, Charleston, 4.25.08

Charleston, April 25, 2008

Podcasts & Press


My advisers recommended I record podcasts, which is the new radio. Please listen them.

Writing

I have extensive writing(s). Please read.

Here is an essay on making babies:

Making Babies: A Primer

I love kids. I don't need to explain myself but I'll do it just for you. I'm not talking about some creepy interpretation that you bonehead Ivory Tower eggheads come up with, insinuating some nonsense about down-home hardworking folks like yours truly. I'm talking about something more simple than that. Something unsullied by our modern corrupt world. Like a kleenex fresh out of the box, if you want to get all metaphorical about it, boneheads.

I don't want to imply that I love my kids all the time. Of course they can get on my nerves. Hell they get on everyone's nerves. All the time. I'll often leave the gory details of the whole process to my very capable second wife, Deborah. Show me a dirty diaper and I'll show you the door.

What I mean is I love the theory of kids. Perpetuating the race. The human race.

I have 10 kids. How many do you have? I would have more but my second wife has problems with her machinery. You know what I mean. But I decided to stay with her regardless. Children should have a mother, I think, even if she's a second. Besides, you try changing 10 diapers some time! It ain't as easy as it looks, not that I would know, but my second wife makes it look like apple pie. Also she makes a mean chicken pot pie. There's usually not enough to go around. That's one of the downsides to having 10 kids. I think it teaches good competitive skills.

My first wife, Eleanor, was a prolific woman, and shockingly fertile. She was like a farmland of babies. You could sneeze on her and she'd get pregnant. Man, she was like a machine! We used to joke, and by "we" I mean that I used to joke that if she weren't constantly pregnant she'd be dead! Because her natural state was making babies. That was the joke.

She died in childbirth shortly after. But she put a good face on it. The kids took it a bit hard but it's not like any of them were that close to her. You try and compete for attention in a family of ten.

It's a bit of a running joke in the family about my second wife Deborah, and how she's barren. Or at least, I think it is. The kids get a laugh out of it.

The point is, family is the pinnacle of human achievement. To raise a family is just about the noblest pursuit a man can undertake. And the more kids you have, the nobler you get. It's sort of the modern day version of nobility. Doing your part to spread your genes and let them compete in the global marketplace. Let the economy sort it out.

I want to make a point. I have nothing but love for my parents. They raised me right, and did good by me; they taught me to respect my elders and always stay out of trouble. From them I learned the American values I carry to this day. Of course when you're facing the wrong end of a leather belt every week you're not left with much choice! Always served with extra love, my Pappy used to say.

And those are the same values I try to instill in my children: Hard work, perseverence, and good old fashioned gumption. Hell, if you're extra lucky I might even throw in a pint of elbow grease.

By now the Ivory Tower eggheads are shaking with rage while reading this. Want to know why? Because they hate your family. I'm not going to speculate on the reasons why but it's likely because they've got some problems making babies. So they take it out on the rest of us.

I'll tell you one story that happened to me once. I was invited to give a lecture at a college - don't ask me what it was called, they're all the same to me - and I prepared a darn good speech. In fact the speech was so good I decided to save it for my campaign at the time, and I prepared another speech, which was just as good.

During the Question and Answer section of my speech one of these egghead guys asked me "What are your thoughts on Promise Rings?"

Now if you're not familiar with the concept of a promise ring it's a pact a father and daughter enter into to promote family values, and also make sure that the daughter will be married someday; it's a way of guaranteeing virginity, sort of like how when you open a bottle of sodapop you expect it to fizz, and if it doesn't you know something is wrong. You want your wife to fizz.

In any case, you can see the media try to lampoon the practice, and twist the love a father has for his daughter into something twisted. I don't want to get into that. The point is its a noble practice, in theory, although I think calling attention to sex is always a bad idea, unless it results in babies.

The point of the story is I really cleaned this guy's clock. And I'll tell you why. The Eggheads like to play a game with words where they try and catch you in logical puzzles. It's almost like a maze. That's what college is. The problem is my arguing skills are so good that, to carry the maze metaphor farther (this is for you, eggheads), my verbal skills can actually lift me like a bird, and fly me above that maze of words, right into your face where I slap my argument against your face. There's basically no response you can make at that point.

There's another point I've been trying to make this whole time and I'm not sure if you got it. You've got to have a deep and abiding respect - some would even say love - for the human institutions through which we pay homage every day, through our actions. And I like to think I exemplify these values in my own life.

For instance, when I was running for State Senate, I had a slogan: Fighting For the Family. I wanted to promote family friendly policies, like ending insidious condom distribution in our hometown, and promoting abstinence-friendly policies.

There have been studies examining the effect of a large family on a child's growth. To summarize, the larger the family the better the kid. You can find it in a book if you don't believe me. The point is, you're actually doing your children a disservice by not having them in the first place.

Family is the bedrock of our hard earned family values. Without family, we wouldn't exist. And neither would this country.

And so in my campaign for city comptroller I made a proposal: Family Day. I thought, we have a Mother's Day and a Father's Day. But we don't have any days for the children.

Sure, you could point to Halloween, or Christmas. To which I'd respond: Halloween is a pagan holiday, and of course Christmas is about Jesus, not some overweight beardo. Not really sure how that whole thing started.

Thanks for that, Media.

We have some unique family traditions in my family. We don't celebrate Halloween. I think it's insulting to the Lord to dress up in clothes that could be interpreted as promoting homosexual values.

One year a few of the children were whining about trick or treating. The thing about whining is, and this is a parenting tip I'm about to give you, most of the time you want to ignore it. But sometimes you need to let it lead to its logical conclusion.

So I compromised by telling them I would first explain the origin of Halloween. It goes like this:

"When the Romans wanted to invade the Hoplites before Christ came along to enlighten them, they dressed up in fancy clothes. It was kind of a Trojan Horse thing. The Hoplites were perverts and welcomed the fancy dressed Romans with open arms, and who knows what other open agendas. The leader of the Hoplites was an overweight fellow by the name of Maximus, and he was more pervert than any of them. It was said in place of concubines he had goats. True Story.

When Maximus laid eyes upon the Romans, his loins lit up because he had become bored with his flock. So he gave the Romans access to his food stores, gave them places to set up camp, and treated them like honored guests. And he said to the leader of the Romans, 'Thou art welcome here, Roman. But what doth thee proffer to repay this gratitude?'

When the Romans had no response, it became clear what it was exactly that Maximus wanted. It was at this point that the Romans slaughtered the Hoplites.

And that's the story of Halloween.