An IMAO Moment
A Modest Proposal for Training Future Presidents
We even debate over which candidate will better improve the economy, which is kind of like trying to choose from a litter of kittens based on which one is best at controlling the weather (hint: it’s usually the calico). It’s like we don’t even know what a president does. No huge corporation is going to hire a CEO just because they just like the cut of his jib; they’re going to want a solid resume showing that the applicant is already experienced doing similar work.
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It’s the good ol’ “Enemy of my Enemy” Thing
Sometimes, when I really don’t know much about a specific issue, I use a simple test to see which way I might lean: I ask “does this piss off the right people?” And in the case of Sarah Palin, she certainly does.
She’s got Barack Obama so flustered that he “inadvertently” calls her a pig and tries to denigrate her accomplishments by calling her “the mayor of Wasilly (sic).” And a lot of people are calling her a rube, a redneck, a bumpkin, a naif.
Speaking strictly for myself, I tend to have some of those tendencies. Although I’ve lived over half my life in cities, they are New Hampshire-sized cities — populations ranging from 110,000 to 12,000. (Yes, Lebanon, NH is a city that’s smaller than a lot of big towns. Deal with it.) And my entire state has a population that’s smaller than a lot of cities — about 1.1 million. So I’m fairly used to the “hick” treatment, and I shrug it off — or exploit it, as my mood and circumstances dictate.
So when people use that line of attack on Palin, it gives me the warm fuzzies.
The Power of Negative Endorsements
When Sen. McGrampypants first announced her as his pick for the VP slot, I kinda shrugged, but when I saw how seriously batshit crazy it drove Camp Bambi and his fellow Dems (more here); nevermind the Messiah’s supporters among the MSM, I realized naming Gov. Palin as his sidekick was a positively inspired choice.
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Well Now, Fall Seems to have Fallen
Lordy, that was quick. It seems like it was just a week ago that the temp was flirting with “90,” and I was suffering a mild case of angst about whether or not to head on up to the attic and start the “tee shirts/sweat shirts” swap.
So when I stumbled down the stairs this morning and felt a weird vibration emanating from the basement, it took me a couple seconds to realize the furnace had kicked in, because every window in the house was open, and though the thermostat had been dialed down to “60,” it had met its inevitable Waterloo moment.
I didn’t expect it to happen so soon.
Anyway, in honor of its passing, I’m saying my goodbye to Summer by listening to “Rock N Roll Jesus” smash two of my favorite songs together and come out of that crash with a few minutes of absolute kickass….
