Former Arkansas Governor Mike Huckabee called it “goofy.” CNN’s John King said it was more difficult to explain than nuclear physics. No, they weren’t talking about Amy Winehouse’s hair. They were describing the presidential delegate selection process employed by the Louisiana State Republican Party.

At the risk of shocking some of you into a possibly fatal coronary, I’m about to let you in on a secret. I am a registered Republican. In fact, I’ve had an “R” next to my name since I turned 18.

Lately, though, I’ve been contemplating changing it into an “I,” and recent actions and statements by the Louisiana GOP may likely prove to be the impetus I’ve needed to do so.

I will now try to explain my grievance in both a simple and entertaining fashion. Due to the immense complexity of the state GOP’s process, however, I believe I should be nominated for a Pulitzer merely for even attempting to do so.

The party devised a complicated, three-step process to select delegates to the National Republican Convention to be held in Minneapolis-St. Paul this September. Party officials claim they did this in order to encourage as many people to participate in the delegate selection process as possible, because everyone knows Americans just love convoluted political procedures.

The first step was an ill-publicized party caucus held on January 22. Did you know anything about it? Didn’t think so. As best as I can tell, the only people who were notified by the party were those on the state GOP’s email distribution list. (And you though daily spam about penis enlargement was irritating.)

The caucus was so poorly publicized, hard-core GOP acquaintances of mine who would brave a Category 5 hurricane to vote Republican didn’t participate. They claimed that, if it was important, they would have heard more about it.

When I asked a party insider why they didn’t do a better job of getting the word out about the caucus, he blamed the media for not covering it more. Really? Last time I checked, I was a member of the media. Where was my press release? You didn’t tell me about it. Why not? We occasionally cover politics.

The only reason I knew anything about it beforehand was because I received an email from a Ron Paul supporter. The message said the caucus would determine which 15 delegates would represent each of the state’s seven congressional districts at the state party convention on February 16. I give the Paul campaign credit for at least making it sound important.

Though we didn’t fully understand the process at the time, my wife and I made our way to Jefferson Baptist Church, which was one of a whopping eleven locations available for the state’s 700,000 registered Republicans to participate in the caucus. And in order to make it even more convenient, the party gave everyone an entire three-hour period – from 5 to 8pm – to cast their ballots.

Even if he did inexplicably find out about the caucus, I just don’t see Joe Lunchbox Republican from Clinton knocking off from his shift at the plant, getting in his pickup, driving all the way to Jefferson Highway, and fighting Baton Rouge traffic to vote for a bunch of people he’s never heard of who want to represent him at a state convention that he knows nothing about. Confused yet? Wait; it gets better.

Back on December 19, the state party posted a bulletin about the upcoming caucus on their official website. It gave the date of the caucus, voting locations, information about becoming a delegate, and voter eligibility.

Apparently, state GOP leaders believe Louisianans are capable of time travel, because in order to participate in the caucus, the December 19 bulletin said a voter had to be a registered Republican by November 30. So unless they had a flux capacitor handy, all those young, rabid, independent Ron Paul supporters were SOL.

To make the whole thing an even bigger clusterf–k, officials at the caucus locations relied on voter rolls from November 1, not November 30. According to the Secretary of State’s office, over 2,700 Louisiana residents registered as Republicans during the month of November. When these folks – who were eligible according to party rules – tried to vote, they could only cast provisional ballots.

Of the 10,000 votes cast across the state that evening, 500 of them were done so provisionally. In more than one instance, party-certified delegates for Ron Paul had to vote provisionally in a caucus in which they were on the freaking ballot!

As for the fate of these provisional ballots, reports are that a majority of them were thrown out. Can you say “Florida 2000”?

I could go on about this crock of a caucus, including how the party broke its own rules by arbitrarily deciding to extend the deadline for delegate registration by two days when it appeared that a certain congressman from Texas had a solid chance of winning, but steps two and three still await my attention and vitriol.

In the end, the Republican “cock-us” resulted in an uncommitted slate of delegates. Some argue this was the true goal of party insiders, since it gave them more wiggle room to engineer the selection of delegates at the party convention (aka step three) a few weeks later. But before I get to that, I must cover step two.

It came on Saturday, February 9 in the form of the Republican Presidential Primary. While this step received the most attention, including copious coverage on cable news outlets like CNN and FOX News, it would actually turn out to be the least important part of the process.

Because of the state GOP’s rules and the way the votes fell, it became what’s known in the political realm as a “beauty contest,” which is a shame for Mitt Romney, since he had dropped out of the race just days before. Given Romney’s rugged handsomeness, John McCain and Mike Huckabee would be no match in a beauty contest.

At the end of the night, McCain came in second with 42% of the vote, while Huckabee barely edged out the former POW with 43%. Unfortunately for the former Arkansas governor, he didn’t get a single one of the 20 delegates that were up for grabs that night because he did not get a majority.

That’s right: since no one garnered more than 50%, those 20 delegates to the Republican National Convention remained uncommitted. In the words of Louisiana Republican Party Chairman Roger Villere, “If he doesn’t get 50 percent, it doesn’t mean anything.”

So, because of the GOP’s screwy rules, the whole thing ended up being nothing more than a statewide, taxpayer-funded exercise in political masturbation. From the number of angry letters to the editor I’ve seen in The Advocate on this very subject, party officials are still trying to clean up the sticky mess.

Like these and many other jilted Republicans, I was pissed and wanted answers. Late that evening, as it sunk in that not a single Republican Primary vote mattered, I got on the web, seeking elucidation regarding this tortuous process. The first place I checked was www.lagop.com, the official website of the state Republican Party. Alas, this experience instead fueled my ire towards those that run the party of Lincoln.

The only thing that proved to be a bigger joke than the state GOP delegate selection process was the state GOP website. Almost every link on this repository of vast information led to a page with the message “Coming Soon!” It was as revealing as a Mormon stripper.

Desperate for answers, I resolved to venture where few non-lobotomized human beings dare tread: the Louisiana Republican Party State Convention, held at the Old State Capitol on Saturday, February 16. Now, what other publisher in town would voluntarily risk his mental health to enlighten his readers?

On the morning of the convention, my wife and I donated blood. As I squeezed the little rubber ball to help pump out the O positive, I considered sticking around to donate another pint. Knowing what awaited me downtown, I would have much rather had medical professionals suck blood out of me than have the life sucked out of me by a gaggle of political insiders.

By the time I got there, the 105 “uncommitted” delegates (over 60% of whom were McCain supporters) had already elected the folks who were going to the National Convention. By mid-afternoon, all but three of the 47 delegates had signed affidavits affirming they would vote for John McCain in September. One of those three was a woman who verbally committed herself to support McCain, but simply refused to sign a piece of paper, while the other two said they would go to the convention uncommitted.

No one there affiliated with the party could satisfactorily explain to me how we could start with an uncommitted slate of state delegates on January 22, have a plurality for Huckabee on February 9, and end up with a virtually unanimous McCain delegation headed to Minnesota. Mr. Villere tried, but for some reason, when he opened his mouth, all I could hear was “Elitism.”

I know that, even without Louisiana’s measly 47 delegates, McCain will still get the nomination. It’s a foregone conclusion that he’s the presumptive nominee. What I’m pissed about is the appearance that the opinions of 105 party insiders mattered more than the wishes of the tens of thousands that voted in the preceding caucus and primary.

I’m also concerned about the long-term effect this ordeal will have on the psyche of many a young voter whose newly found political zeal has been brutally tempered by the harsh reality of party politics and the perception of disenfranchisement. Oh well, I guess they could always engage in more productive and meaningful endeavors, like blogging about Big Brother.