Not all liberals are marvelous people like yours truly.
Keith Olbermann is more prickly than cactus with psoriasis.
He was fired by Current TV today after being fired by MSNBC, ESPN and various other capitalized letter combinations.
Al Gore, one of the founders of the network that nobody in America can find let alone watch, gave Olbermann the pink(o) slip.
Adding insult to injury, pouring gasoline on the fire, wrecking ball the fine china, stomping on the tulips etc., Current replaced Obermann with the eternally stiff in bed and out Eliot Spitzer.
Olbermann’s demise hardly was a surprise.
This guy burns more bridges than an arsonist who works in a match factory.
He and management are a more deadly combination than booze and car keys.
There are two reasons why he and his bosses keep demolishing fenders.
One, he’s an egocentric problem child who does anything and says anything he damn well pleases. His egotism is etched into his flesh like a tattoo.
Two, he expects management to greet his every request and pronouncement with “Sieg Heil!”
Trying to figure out the crazy weather is harder than figuring out why Vaughn Spencer is a worse personnel evaluator than the front office of the Pittsburgh Pirates, who have suffered 19 straight losing seasons.
Personally I loved our mild winter. I only love a deep freeze if I’m surrounded by frozen Snickers bars in a Frigidaire. I prefer my snow in cones, my ice in drinks and not on my driveway.
But nobody was thrilled more by our mild winter than Barack Obama.
Normally, you would wonder why the president would care since he personally doesn’t have to shovel the White House sidewalk.
What our president absolutely adored was that the warm weather in December, January and February added 72,000 extra jobs to the economy.
Leave it to those math funsters at Macroeconomic Advisers, who somehow pulled that number out of the thaw.
They fingered the great weather for why the economy added an unusually high level of jobs relative to a very modest growth in GDP.
Which disproved the theory that the economy spiked simply to spite Mitt Romney.
Apparently if the nice weather suddenly tanks worse than Newt Gingrich and we have a cold spring followed by a hurricane season that will be flying our patio furniture clear to Kansas after a layover in Rhode Island, the economy could sour like vampire Edward Cullen left out in the sun.
Bill Belichick wears a hoodie. Obi-Wan Kenobi wore a hoodie. Monks wear hoodies. Mother Teresa wore a hoodie (sort of). I wear a hoodie when I’m shoveling snow (remember when it snowed around here?).
None of of us ever snatched a purse, robbed a 7-Eleven or shot up a Wawa.
Which is why I applaud Bobby Rush, the congressman from Chicago’s South Side and the only politician to ever beat Barack Obama in an election, for wearing a hoodie in support of Trayvon Martin while speaking on the chamber floor today.
Granted, the Capitol Hill fashion police booted Rush from the speaking podium for not adhering to the dress code.
No matter. Message delivered.
I didn’t have lunch with the Supreme Court justices today to get the inside skinny since I already had a lunch date with the entire cast of Dancing With The Stars, but the vibe I’m hearing is that after this morning’s oral arguments concerning Obamacare is they’re gonna crush the individual mandate portion like an old peanut shell.
Yep, the Affordable Care Act as now constructed likely is going to be declared unconstitutional.
In a matter of Supreme irony, the funeral end of Obamacare could be a blessing in disguise for the president.
Granted, a rejection would be more embarrassing than passing wind in front of a teleprompter. And it would throw his legacy into the teeth of a wheat thresher.
However, it definitely could splash his reelection campaign with vitality.
If Obamacare would wind up in the judicial morgue, it would rob the Republicans of their most galvanizing issue. And it would free Obama from having to lug the 56-ton elephant of his health care plan from whistle stop to whistle stop.
Yep, the Supremes unwittingly just could stoke the power of Obama’s reelection efforts.
Sometimes Mitt Romney is about as real as Cheez Whiz.
He threw Obamacare under an ambulance today, trying to capitalize on the Supremes putting the national health care overhaul under the microscope.
Excuse me, but didn’t Romney invent Obamacare with Romneycare in Massachusetts? I thought so.
Doesn’t Mitt know we can Google his past sins?
Didn’t his daddy teach him never to stick his nose in somebody’s business unless you want them to rip it off?
In irony thick enough to slice with a steak knife, health care is wrapping Obama and Romney in the same clingy, messy and annoying wallpaper.
Actually, Romney is correct in frying Obamacare. But considering his past, his critique rings more hollow than a carved Halloween pumpkin.
I hope Obama gets his just desserts by having the Supreme Court deep-six Obamacare.
Obama was about six exits past crazy to spend all his political capital to pass a bill that nobody but he and Bill Clinton wanted. What’s with Democratic presidents and their compulsion to insure us all while bankrupting all of us? Is it in their DNA to go on a fool’s errand?
Then Obama made so many concessions to the insurance industry, the pharmaceutical industry and the doctors’ lobby he would have been better off taking all that Obamacare paperwork and turning it into paper airplanes to toss on the White House lawn. At least then it would have some merit.
We live in a violent world where fear, anger, brutality and death are the modern-day Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
Molten emotions are worn on the sleeve and adrenaline-triggered response make life more vulnerable than ever, safety more fragile than ever, serenity more elusive than ever.
Our city has been infested with the zing of gunfire for much too long, and now the hot lead is flying in the suburbs as well.
Soon we all may have to carry heat and wear bullet-proof vests. Who knew that Dodge City would come to every town in America, circa 2012.
Violence is threaded into the fabric of our movies, our video games, some of our major sports.
Daily existence has become a Bloodsport. And who among us can staunch the bleeding before our society bleeds into a whiter shade of pale?
Of course, not all violence comes at the hand of a gun.
School bullying is a national epidemic. Soon cyber school may be the only safe haven for kids not to be traumatized. Somehow I don’t think one-room schoolhouses of yore were hothouses of terror.
Last week in Exeter Township men whose fear and anger were spawned in a Facebook posting that a man was stalking young children assaulted an innocent man.
Vigilante is a vicious breed.
Last month in Sanford, Fla., a neighborhood watch volunteer named George Zimmerman fatally shot a teenager named Trayvon Martin who was packing nothing but candy and a soft drink as he walked through a gated community.
The killing has sparked a nationwide firestorm of protests over alleged racial profiling.
In both cases, men took the law into their own hands and now they have blood on their hands. But so far, no handcuffs.
In the Florida incident, the state’s stand your ground law that permits people to use deadly force if they feel threatened has deterred an arrest — at least for now.
Not to don the cloth of a preacher man, but we should be better than this.
Alas, we are not. Shame on us. And God help us.
The Hunger Games is a not new flick about fasting for Lent or the morbidly obese going food shopping.
Rather, the movie is based on Suzanne Collins’ young-adult bestseller about a futuristic paradise in which teenagers, bored with Facebooking and prepping for their SATs, battle to the death in televised gladiatorial matches.
And you thought the Republican presidential primaries have been bloody.
With the Harry Potter and the Twilight series ebbing from the big screen, Collin’s sci-fi trilogy that includes Catching Fire and Mockingjay should be Hollywood’s next blockbuster bonanza.
At least until they produce the documentary on how Mitt Romney’s Etch a Sketch malleability won him the White House.
With gas prices percolating at the pump and roasting his reelection chances like a rotisserie chicken, President Obama today stepped on the gas regarding the Keystone XL pipeline.
He fast-tracked the southern segment of the Keystone line, a 485-mile line that will run from Cushing, Okla., to refineries on Texas’ Gulf Coast.
Methinks he’s seeking to curry favor with voters who feel that life with high gas prices is uncivil, if not downright tire deflating.
He also went full throttle in accusing Congress of playing politics with a larger Canada-to-Gulf Coast project that all Americans except for environmentalists want more than their next breath.
Republicans obviously were not impressed by his decision, claiming the move was little more than a publicity stunt and won’t help TransCanada build the pipeline any sooner.
I guess it’s not over until it’s over. Aristotle once wrote that while penning a blog on Greek politics on a stone tablet.
Since I did take one philosophy course in college, I’m going out on a limb this morning and write that it indeed is over before it’s over — Mitt Romney is going to be the Republican presidential nominee.
However, if lightning should strike and ignite the biggest miracle since the ’69 Mets and Jets, I reserve the right to saw off that limb. But I’ll make sure someone puts a mattress below to cushion my fall.
Romney romped in Illinois last night and his inexorable march to the nomination is proceeding delegate by delegate, dollar by dollar, boring sound bite by boring sound bite. Your basic war of attrition. No shock and awe, just scorched earth.
However, Rick Santorum is not dead and buried yet, so need to tag his toe. Santorum seems likely to win Louisiana and looks good right now in Wisconsin.
Appears as if the April 24 Pennsylvania primary might not be as meaningless as a preseason NFL game. Santorum, if you recall, is a PA guy. Maybe he’ll have homefield advantage even though he got trounced in his last election at home.
Peyton Manning, who recently has had more suitors than Pippa, appears bound for Denver.
Barring a snag during intensified contract negotiations, it should be a done deal.
A Rocky Mountain High for him and Broncos fans — if not for Tim Tebow, likely to be traded or simply given up for Lent.
Manning does appear to have chosen the team with the best circumstances in terms of players, coaches and front office to provide him with a valid Super Bowl shot.
After all, Manning is risking his neck in this quest. Literally. Three neck surgeries in four months aren’t exactly what the doctor ordered for aging quarterbacks.
With his neck on the line, Manning would love to emulate Broncos honcho John Elway and win a couple Super Bowls as a Denver superstar QB in the twilight of his career.
Might be a difficult career arc to parallel. But you can bet that Tebow will be praying for him.