Before my opponents try to spin it their way, I want to give you the straight facts about the incident at last night’s mayoral debate.

About ten minutes in, the moderator posed a question to me about balancing the city’s budget. I believe her exact words were, “How do you believe we should balance the city’s budget?”

It took a moment for me to process the question, but as soon as I did I became very confused; so confused, in fact, that I passed out immediately, my body hitting the floor with a loud thud. To be clear, the collapse was not because of an illness or a medical emergency. It was not anything that anyone should get alarmed about. All that happened was I got a little confused up there and, as a result, I lost consciousness for a few seconds. I will emphasize that it is not a reflection of my political views, but rather an involuntary, automatic reaction my body happens to have to sentences and ideas that are complicated or otherwise confusing.

After examining the video, I admit that when I first raised my finger into the air, it did seem that I was ready to respond. In retrospect, I should not have given that “ready-to-respond” signal so soon, for it was only after raising my finger into the air that my confusion over the question really set in. My visceral response was so quick and so complete that I barely managed to utter a single “um” before swooning violently to the ground.

My political opponents will probably try to claim that I merely pretended to pass out in order to sidestep the question about the budget. This could not be further from the truth. I knew then, and know now, how to respond adequately to that question. Had I been born with a different body, I could now give you a very coherent answer that would appeal to all of my current constituents and even win some new ones. But unfortunately, that answer is extremely complex, and my team of medical advisors has warned me that the very act of articulating it would trigger, in my body, the very same debilitating confusion I experienced at the debate last night. In light of this, I have chosen to refrain henceforth from speaking to the issue of the city budget and, indeed, from fielding any questions at all pertaining to that topic.

Some will point out that, after I had regained consciousness and taken my position at the podium again, the moderator posed the same question to my opponents, who all managed to answer it without collapsing in confusion. But this is because my opponents were not engaging with the question as deeply as I was. As usual, they had simply memorized a set of cookie-cutter talking points to spout off any time they heard the word “budget.” If my opponents had listened to the question as carefully as I did, they too would have become dangerously confused, so confused that I suspect many of them would have died right there on stage. Then my detractors would surely be singing a different tune.

I do not deal in cookie-cutter talking points. When someone asks me a question about healthcare, for example, I quickly remember all existing opinions and evidence on the topic of healthcare. I think about the benefits of single- versus multi-payer systems, about the ways in which insurance incentives change with age, about the… interna… tshehhh—

I apologize. I lost it for a second there. But presumably you grasped the gist of what I was saying. In any case, I hope you can see now how the flood of information in my mind quickly becomes overwhelming. And so you can understand why every time I try to talk about healthcare, religion, the budget problem, or another of comparable complexity, I get very, very, very confused and I pass out.

I cannot promise you that such an incident will not occur again. Indeed, all signs point to the probability that it will. But that is exactly why you should elect me. I know of the pitfalls of byzantine tax codes, intractable corruption—in short, of confusing governance. And if elected, I will strive to correct them. My decisions will tend always towards simplicity, my speeches toward platitudes, my policies towards doing what is plain and clear. After all, of what use to the world is a bloated government, laden with laws that take hours to read and days to understand? The answer, I am fairly sure, is “no use at all.” Or, perhaps, “of great use to everyone.” I am not sure. I am certainly not going to think about it any longer. Thank you, and God bless!