Sunday, January 29, 2012


Isn't this the sorriest election cycle? Barack Obama versus Mitt Newtered. If I voted republican I would have to choose Gingrich over Mitt. On the other hand, Mitt is more comparable to Obama, as it seems the general public prefers girlie-men these days and Mitt and Barry, equally and constantly aware of themselves, posturing and posing as if a hair might fall out of place or a collar wrinkle - makes them more presidential.

Newt has the look of a bloated aging philandering perv and that's unappealing - voters do respond to looks (remember JFK and RMN). But then again, Newt's moral skeletons from the past align more with Joe Sixpack's closet of bones - and often times folks choose that which is more like themselves.

Still, the public gets excited over the guy or gal who appears physically and personally damn near perfect, so the appearance that Mitt and Barry have nary a sexcapade in their past (and every hair and pore in place) ... makes them more electable I suppose.

I remember when the party challenged the incumbent. I.e. Ted Kennedy against Jimmy Carter in 1980 primaries. We don't seem to do that anymore. Unless you consider Obama's challengers as serious contenders. Democratic runners for 2012 are Darcy Richardson (even his name is girlie). There's Vermin Supreme (see above photo), performance artist and perennial candidate from Massachusetts who indeed looks verminish. Randall Perry, pro-lifer who plans to run ads with aborted fetuses. And a Tennessee attorney, John Wolfe, Jr., who claims he represents the 99%, although he owes a $10,000 fine in TN which disqualifies him from any office in that state until it's paid.

Saddest thing is - there really is no choice. It's still twiddle vermin and twiddle varmint, placed in office by those who handle the votes (all the way to the lake, the river, the swamp, the mineshaft, the fire pit).

"Those who cast the votes decide nothing. Those who count the votes decide everything." (Stalin, supposedly.)

Saturday, January 21, 2012


All black folks can sing. (Not really, I have a grandchild with a voice that will make babies cry, dogs howl, and empty out a room.)

On the flip side is Herman, singing Imagine.

But leave it to John Ashcroft to pen and sing his own "Let the Eagle Soar."

We're all rock stars now.

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