I thought Mitten’s slippery shuffle on releasing his tax returns was even more egregious than the lies about moose elk hunting and Super PACs. We all know he doesn’t want to admit that he pays a 15% tax rate on his millions while we unwashed proles pay a considerably higher rate on our earned pittance.
But since we all KNOW that, and since he KNOWS that we all know that, at what point in the Mittens calculation does evasiveness become more damaging than facts? April 15, when he will have conveniently sewn up the nomination. Gyad, what a putz.
The GOP primary is coming to Florida at the end of this month. The ads have already started—at least Romney’s have. (Le sigh.)
Meanwhile, does anyone speak Sad, Disgruntled Wingnut? If so, can you translate this snippet of a post from Erick Erickson, who attended the Evangelical Stop the Mormon Heretic Convention this weekend?
But by voting for Santorum, the group largely undercut more serious efforts waged by Gingrich to stop Romney and, even more troubling if Romney is the nominee and loses, potentially sets up a claim by Rick Santorum, a man who will have been out of office a decade by then, to be the 2016 front runner.
In a year when we could possibly see Bobby Jindal, John Kasich, Rick Scott, Scott Walker, Marco Rubio, and others, the evangelical movement might have just sown the first seeds of division for 2016 — seeds that, like in 2008 and 2012, prevented evangelicals from getting one of their own the nomination.
Does he actually think Rick Scott, who is slightly less popular in Florida than chlamydia, or Scott “Koch Kabana Boy” Walker are viable candidates who will be shoved aside in favor of Santorum in 2016? The capacity for self-delusion is uncommonly strong in that one.
In which America’s favorite unkillable psychotic backwoods mongoloid sets aside his standard arsenal and adopts your weapon of choice, the ukulele.
I guess they went over-budget with the (rather impressive) Jason makeup, otherwise the costuming department surely would’ve outfitted the psychiatrist with some shoes.
Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 01/13/12 at 11:07 PM
Permalink
First of all, I apologize for assuming that you paid any attention to the speeches given by candidates in the New Hampshire Republican primary last night. Hell, most Americans weren’t watching, and practically none of us pay any attention to your elections, even the ones conducted in countries with which we share a border.
Maybe one in 20 of us could name the leaders of our neighboring countries, and a not-insignificant percentage would respond with a blank stare if asked to name those countries. That’s how we roll. But I am assuming that many of you do follow our elections—perhaps in the same spirit that the driver of a Mini Cooper keeps tabs on the movements of a semi-truck that is fish-tailing wildly in the traffic ahead.
Anyhoo, if you did see the speeches, you may have noted that all the candidates agreed on one thing: America is the greatest country in the history of the planet—nay, the galaxy! Nay, the universe! The candidates didn’t deliver this observation in a perfunctory way to scratch their listeners’ patriot-itch: They asserted it and repeated it and returned to it again and again. And most of all, they compared their own bug-eyed devotion to that notion to the president’s and found his pride in his homeland wanting.
Romney attack-surrogate Chris Christie thrilled his legions of wingnut fans yesterday by sneering the following at a female heckler: “Somethin’s goin’ down tonight, but it ain’t gonna be jobs, Sweetheart!”
Wingnuts love Christie’s Jersey bully-boy antics, and no doubt they relish the stark contrast between his Tony Soprano manner and the gee-whiz, milquetoast demeanor of their unsatisfactory front-runner. But some on the left criticized Christie’s choice of words, suggesting that he was telling the heckler to dig through the folds of flesh below his belt to extract and service Lil’ Smokie, or whatever Mrs. Christie calls it.
But wouldn’t you think a wannabe “political analyst” like Taylor Marsh—a woman who spent much of 2008 screeching about then-candidate Barack Obama’s sexism because he used the word “periodically” in a sentence that also contained the words “Hillary Clinton,” waxing hysterical about the sexism inherent in the now-president’s brushing-off gesture and avidly promoting the lies that Mr. Obama used “99 Problems but a Bitch Ain’t One” as a campaign theme song and flipped off Mrs. Clinton—wouldn’t she object to Mr. Christie’s handling of the female heckler? Nope:
I’m just not seeing the offense. An “offensive oral sex joke”?
This type of judgment about Christie not having any class is what makes Democrats look snooty. It’s about style, actually, with a side of political correctness from those judging him.
Imagine for a moment the ear-splitting snit if President Obama had said something even remotely comparable—ever. I guess it’s only okay if said by a white dude. Jeebus, what a hypocrite.
Ouch. Steve M doesn’t think it’ll work on Republican voters, who generally believe unfettered capitalism is decreed by Jeebus. I’m not so sure: Romney lacks only a monocle to complete the dastardly Wall Street villain look, and even the Rush Limbaugh-listeners hate them.
The working class people who vote against their own interests can suspend disbelief and swallow talking points in service of the rich when it’s delivered in a phony twang (Dubya, et al). But will they buy it from Romney? Perhaps not.
Remember the 80s? Legwarmers, Shrinky Dinks, the ABC Friday Night Movie, Twitter not existing…
Commenters, come out to play-ee-yay!
Actually, going out to play-ee-yay would be preferable, but us destined-to-look-back-on-our-lives-with-regret types gotta have our voices heard too, am I right?
Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) on 01/06/12 at 09:56 PM
Permalink
It’s communion wafer versus Ritz in the cracker battle of the century! But I kid my pasty brothers, y’all white people are OK, you just talk funny and those chinos make your ass look fat.
Anyway, since the media has to act like Man on Dog poses a legitimate threat to Dog on Car for a few days, let’s all hope some blood gets drawn (apologies for the violent imagery, but it’s clearly meant metaphorically—Romney doesn’t have anything we would recognize as a circulatory system). See below for how to pop the requisite amount of popcorn.
Santorum’s close-enough-to-count-as-a-victory speech after the jump.
