Everybody knew that Rahm Emanuel wouldn’t be Obama’s chief of staff until the twelfth of never.
Emanuel, hardly a patrician who refrains from rumbling with the roadies, is hitting the road tomorrow to run for mayor of Chicago and reportedly will be replaced by White House senior adviser Peter Rouse.
Rahm has been a lightning rod in the White House, where nobody has nestled in the cool of his shade.
He has made no secret that he’s less than enamored with life in the Beltway.
Perhaps his hellish hail of F-bombs will fly better in the Windy City.
This just in: Santa Claus had to be pried from the North Pole in a cold sweat.
Because he and his elves are gonna have to ramp up toy production big time for Christmas, considering that kids suddenly have nothing to play with.
Fisher-Price announced this morning that it’s recalling over 10 million toys, trikes and high chairs.
Hell, they’ll need a safari hunt to find all of them. Apparently there were a few safety issues, like lacerating pegs on a high chair and protrusions on a trike that in some cases caused genital bleeding.
So now kids will have to entertain themselves playing bongos at Carnegie Hall and wetting their noses before inserting them into light sockets.
Parents on the right are blaming Obama for the Fisher-Price mess and imploring him to kneel down on his prayer rug to find a quick solution to their kids’ playtime nightmare.
Parents on the left are blaming Sarah Palin and her Mama Grizzlies for not protecting their kids from the Fisher-Price mercenaries.
Parents in the middle are shipping their kids to their grandparents.
Christine O’Donnell, who is running for the Senate in Delaware as a Tea Party brunette bombshell and East Coast reincarnation of Sarah Palin, may have trouble keeping track of her school reunions.
Because apparently O’Donnell has no clue where she went to school. Details, details. Of course, such trivial matters aren’t important when you are trying to save the country from destruction.
O’Donnell claimed she attended Claremont Graduate University, which is news to the school. Perhaps she enrolled under a pseudonym. Or never raised her hand in class.
Even her undergraduate education had been under a cloud. She attended graduation day in 1993 at Fairleigh Dickinson University but after being dogged by questions about her diploma, she only recently earned her bachelor’s in English literature. Better late than never.
Evidently O’Donnell excels at writing fiction.
Should come in handy when she applies for a Rhodes Scholarship.
After all, they love tea at Oxford.
So much for being the world leader.
Apparently fairly soon the United States won’t even be No. 1 in the Western Hemisphere. How’s that for shaking your world with a not so little hum of reality?
That’s heresy after decades of it being Uncle Sam and the Smurfs.
Alpha dog gets bit in his own butt.
The veil of change hangs in the air like a pregnant mist.
Besides the perpetual financial crisis in the States, evidently there are demographic, material and political forces at play that are triggering a seismic shift in power among the Americas.
Our American neighbors are riding a pulse of economic energy while we ride a giant wave of decline as it crests and sucks us over the falls.
I guess we here in the States have been too preoccupied with Dancing With The Stars and Donavan’s Return to the City of Brotherly Boo.
It seems Brazil and Mexico are on the cusp of becoming economic powers and if you find that surprising, especially about Mexico, feel free to faint with me.
Brazil, Mexico and Argentina have led a buoyant Latin American recovery from the global recession; Canada and Venezuela are budding oil powers and will pass us in oil production in the next decade; Chile, taking a break from dishing out chili, now produces 300 percent more copper than the U.S. (the former world leader); and Brazil, taking a break from its sexy resort beaches, produces over four times as much iron ore as the U.S. (again, the former world leader) and also exports over twice as much beef as we do because we are scared witless over red meat and all our cowboys have died with their boots on (John Wayne, R.I.P.).
Just to rub our dirty noses in it, Brazil, Canada, and Mexico all invest a greater share of GDP in clean energy.
By the way, the world’s richest hombre is a Mexican, not an American. Rockefeller, Ford and Getty are all tycoons whose time has come and gone. Meet Carlos Slim (I am not making this up), who has $54 billion in his fat pockets, give or take a peso or two.
No word yet on when Carlos Slim is moving to Reading. Hopefully soon because his tip money alone would get the city out of Act 47 and stop our town from being leveled by a steamrolling lump of poverty.
Life sometimes comes served with a bitter taste of irony that sticks to the roof of your mouth and refuses to vacate the premises.
Jimi Heselden is a former miner who left school at the age of 15 and became a lavishly successful British businessman.
Life sure did an about-face with military precision for him.
Less than a year ago Heselden acquired the Segway company, which manufactures those nifty two-wheeler transporters.
A poor investment, it turns out. And this has nothing to do with the bottom line.
Enter irony. Those scooters aren’t always so nifty.
Heselden died Sunday near his Yorkshire estate after apparently falling from a 30-foot cliff into a river while riding a, you guessed it, Segway.
Which would be like me plunging to my death while reading the Reading Eagle.
Guess the guy should have purchased a parachute company instead.
Man, what was all the fuss and muss about Andy Reid kicking Kevin Kolb to the curb and hitching his (XXXX-large) wagon to the destiny riding Michael Vick’s coattails?
Vick vintage 2010 is light years better (so far) than the Vick vintage 2004 with the Falcons.
Vick used to be a huge, brimming reservoir of big plays and terrible turnovers. The Atlanta version of Vick was all shimmy and shake, like a belly dancer on amphetamines.
Damn, he still makes delicious big plays, spinning gold out of pigskin with a throwing motion in which you can see (old-timers’ alert) syrupy shadows of Sam Snead’s sweet and free-flowing golf swing. But now Vick has precision and patience, a pocket presence that rivals that of Peyton Manning and Tom Brady. Vick, for now, doesn’t uncork insane picks or cough up the ball like a guy with whooping cough.
The Philadelphia Eagles torched the godawful Jaguars 28-3 Sunday in steamy Jacksonville because Vick again was awfully special and because the defense suddenly started playing football instead of turnstile.
Vick completed 17 of 31 passes for 291 yards and three touchdowns and ran four times for 30 yards, including a 17-yard juke-and-burst TD scamper.
As you know, Vick hardly is a saint. But stick a football in his Thor of a left arm and even St. Michael the Archangel can’t match his heavenly thunderbolts. Vick threw TD strikes of 61 yards to DeSean Jackson and 16 and 45 yards to Jeremy Maclin. But his most amazing throw was a gorgeous 42-yard flick off his back foot that somehow zeroed in Jackson like a homing missile.
Now Donovan McNabb and the struggling Redskins await. The juice already is percolating like a coffee pot on steroids.
Back in the days when monarchies and not democracies reigned supreme, the town jesters had inside access to the palace elite.
Of course, nobody in authority ever took the court clowns seriously — unless they were hallucinating.
But at least they had their ear. In dictatorships, entertainers never got to lecture Hitler or Stalin. Or at least lived to tell about it.
But that was then and this was now, a time when our congressional hearings usually are as bland as kissing the person you’re married to.
But not today.
(Buttinski editor’s note: Stupid Zeke now has begun three straight sentences with But).
Comedy Central faux news anchor Stephen Colbert testified before Congress today about immigration. Colbert evidently is an expert on immigration because his parents weren’t Apaches and because the comedian spent a day working at a corn and vegetable farm in New York state.
While some people only stick their nose in somebody else’s business because they want to rip them off, Colbert apparently did so as an advocate of the United Farm Workers. That group wants to debunk the theory that undocumented immigrants are taking jobs away from American citizens and highlight the fact the nation’s food supply is dependent on these farm workers.
As someone who likes to eat, I’m totally for having an ample food supply. And I totally get the theory that farm workers have a hand in the food supply.
As Colbert was in character as he gave his testimony, he couldn’t resist saying: “I don’t want a tomato picked by a Mexican. I want it picked by an American, sliced by a Guatemalan, and then served by a Brazilian. I understand many Democrats may be looking for work come November.”
That sure had to wake up the legislators as well as the CSPAN audience.
House Republicans rolled out their campaign manifesto today, hoping it’s the honey that draws bees, ants, bears and voters.
If all of the above show up on Nov. 2, it’s gonna be crazy at the polls.
Their “Pledge to America” apparently is very, well, Republican. They want to throw a bunch of Democratic policies in the trash bin, focus on creating jobs, slash taxes and spending, prune government regulation, and put a torch to Obama’s health care law and stimulus program.
Could these folks be any more predictable?
Oh, yeah. They did have one surprise when they demanded that Nancy Pelosi get a new hairstyle.
Of course, politicians never keep their pledges, so don’t anybody out there hold the GOP accountable to any of this.
Granted, some folks (like Democrats) think the Republican set of promises would increase the deficit by trillions of dollars, take health care insurance away from tens of millions of people, create a level of policy uncertainty businesses have never previously known, suck demand out of an economy that’s already got too little of it, and explode the debt all the way up to the lunar surface.
Then again, the planet could explode and spare all of us from all of this.
OK, who even knew that President Obama had an economic mastermind?
Astonishingly, it turns out that he does.
Larry Summers is the guy who apparently can’t even stack quarters.
Suzanne Sommers could do a better job running the National Economic Council. Or even Jonathan Winters. And he’s dead.
Even more stunning, Summers is going to quit to return to Harvard.
Harvard? I figure a guy this dumb would be on the faculty of the School of Hard Knocks.
Which is the legacy he left the rest of us.
But cheer up, all you poor and downtrodden.
Good news and good times are on the horizon. Of course, so are stink bugs but I digress.
Obama plans on picking a woman-CEO type to replace Summers, with former Xerox head Anne Mulcahy supposedly the frontrunner on a list that includes Xerox CEO Ursula Burns and Commerce Department official Rebecca Blank as possibilities.
Why a woman? Because if you recall your elementary school days, the girls always are smarter at math than boys.
Actually, they’re smarter at everything until their hormones kick in.
And as adults, women are much better at handling the purse strings simply because they carry the purse.
I can feel my bank account growing even as I write this.
Short of developing a six-pack like “The Situation” sports, nothing could be more amazing about Andy Reid than his running a reverse on Michael Vick.
Reid named Vick THE starting quarterback for the Philadelphia Eagles tonight, benching Donovan McNabb’s presumed air (err?) apparent in Kevin Kolb.
And just who was concussed? Reid or Kolb? This stunning turnaround is so out of character for Reid you wonder if he has been possessed by the devil or totally gone, ahem!, to the dogs.
Evidently Vick’s lights-out play the first two games in Kolb’s absence was even too spectacular for Reid to ignore.
Take me now Lord for I’ve seen it all.