I’m not sure even his own party thought Mitt Romney was ready for prime time last night.
The Republicans killed time with an Eastwood Clintastrophe that had the ancient actor talking to an empty chair posing as President Obama.
It’s clear that Eastwood thinks Obama is an empty suit and it would make Clint’s day to see the president get dumped in November.
Then Marco Rubio, who supposedly was introducing Romney’s acceptance speech, instead introduced himself to a prime time audience as he launched his 2016 presidential campaign.
Call Marco a real team player.
Poor Mitt didn’t get to the podium until 10:40 or so. It was remarkable that a 65-year-old was still awake and not wearing his pajamas.
But awake he was. Perhaps fueled on NoDoz, Romney wasn’t an electrifying presence. Lightning bolts didn’t emit from the electrons cascading from his lips. But he was presidential as hell.
Romney was there to convey that he actually is a human being with a heart, not just a business machine with a calculator. He showed genuine emotion talking about his family.
It was a thematic speech, focusing on Mitt as a regular guy who puts on his pants one leg at a time. Even if the pants belong to a $5,000 suit.
And his address focused on rehabilitating his business record.
I, for one, thought he did both.
Romney also offered a summary of Obama’s failed record, a dispassionate review of a president who overpromised and under-delivered.
Romney found room for some vision and policy, ranging from energy to spending to healthcare.
Of course, there was no mention of Social Security, Medicare, Iraq, Afghanistan, illegal immigration and why Mormons can’t take their Christianity straight up.
Then again, the hour was getting late.
Paul Ryan struck an impressive figure addressing the RNC convention last night.
For a numbers cruncher, the man has an eloquent tongue. A shame that it’s a forked tongue.
Ryan was more misleading than the narrative of a suspense novel. In fact, some of what he was spewing was pure fiction.
Ryan said that Barack Obama, while campaigning for president, promised that a GM plant in Wisconsin would not shut down.
A low blow, considering that Obama didn’t promise that and the plant closed in December 2008 while George W. Bush was president.
Ryan obviously put some Boardwalk fudge on those details.
Ryan slammed Obama for not supporting a deficit commission report without mentioning that he himself had voted against it, helping to kill it.
I guess Ryan, in the excitement of the moment, forgot that little point.
He misled more than a cheating spouse on several other points.
He said that Obama “funneled” $716 billion out of Medicare to pay for Obamacare. But Ryan didn’t mention that his own budget plan relies on those very same savings.
Ryan also put responsibility for Standard & Poor’s downgrade of U.S. government debt at Obama’s doorstep. But he didn’t mention that S&P itself, in explaining its downgrade, referred to the debt ceiling standoff. That process of raising the debt ceiling was only politicized in the last Congress, driven by House Republicans, led in the charge by Paul Ryan.
I guess the fact-checker was disabled on Ryan’s teleprompter.
After all, Romney pollster Neil Newhouse warned, defending the campaign’s demonstrably false ads claiming Obama removed work requirements from welfare, “We’re not going to let our campaign be dictated by fact-checkers.”
Mitt Romney. Paul Ryan. Chris Christie. We Three Kings of the GOP.
I don’t know how much frankincense and myrrh they got, but I know they have more gold than a rap star hangs around his neck.
And they are wise men and kings. After all, they are Republicans.
But if somehow the unthinkable transpires and President Obama pulls an elephant out of his butt and wins the election, the GOP will need a stalwart in 2016.
Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you Jon Voight.
The 73-year-old actor once was the Midnight Cowboy. Now he’s Angelina Jolie’s father. In four years he could be the next Ronald Reagan, a much less accomplished actor than Voight who found himself landing the lead role in the White House.
Voight, a former lefty who started listing to the right when his spinal column grew more rigid than his once chiseled abs, was a regular rock star today at the convention.
Voight certainly sounded like a true, red Republican.
“I’m trying to keep things on the light side,” he said moments after saying “President Obama is a dangerous socialist who hates successful people, encourages dependency on the government, has harmed America’s standing in the world, has injured America’s strategic alliance with Israel, and will lie, cheat, and do many other reprehensible things in order to retain power.”
Can you imagine what Voight will say when he keeps things on the heavy side?
I know Voight and Jolie’s relationship has been on the rocks more often than my Scotch. But a Voight-Jolie Republican ticket in 2016 would have more star power than those novelty acts on America’s Got Talent.
Can they win one for The Gipper?
The GOP convention is all about repackaging Romney and praying that such a miracle actually breaks a sweat.
The Republican convention already has lost a day to Isaac, who must be a Democrat.
And that is a shame because this convention has its work cut out for it: Make Mitt Romney more likeable and approachable than a porcupine.
That, my fellow political scientists, is this election in a nutshell you won’t find at The Peanut Bar.
Voters are ready to jump The Bad Ship Obamapop. But they have to feel a tad better about Romney caring about them to make the leap.
Apparently the Keystone State isn’t a swing state after all.
Actually, what’s the surprise? PA is the Quaker State, home of the Amish, Mennonites and plenty of farmers who are in bed by 8 and up by 4. The only swingers in this state are kids on swings at playgrounds.
The Philadelphia Inquirer today released its Pennsylvania Poll, led by a bipartisan team of top political analysts, which concluded that if the election were held now, President Obama would win the state over Mitt Romney by nine percentage points — 51-42 — with 7 percent of voters undecided.
The results are comparable to those of other recent polls, including one released Thursday by Muhlenberg College, which also found Obama leading by nine points in the state.
The visit Obama made to the Marvel Ranch in 2008 evidently still is paying dividends.
I suspect some Republicans may disparage the quality of these polls because they were orchestrated by the dastardly liberal media and nerdy academics whose only interest in life is reelecting Obama so he can merge the U.S. with Europe and Greece by Thanksgiving.
Ouzo, come to think of it, would be great to wash down all that turkey and filling.
I like to ride the bike hard at the gym, even though it spins me nowhere except to better health and having a pair of muscular thighs too perpetually sore to even get out of a beach chair without grimacing.
Professional bicyclists who compete in the Tour de France either are superhuman or use doping to get them through the grind. I mean there is a grueling task and then there is the definition of pain taken to lunacy/insanity levels. The latter is even more painful than a bad marriage. Or root canal.
I thought Lance Armstrong was superhuman. A robot who could churn out miles in robotic fashion on his bike to win seven straight Tour de France titles and never break a sweat.
A machine more than a man. But a machine with a heart strong enough to kick testicular cancer like a rented mule and live to found LIVESTRONG, a charitable organization dedicating to curing cancer and coping with its consequences.
But machines actually don’t ride those bikes. Men do. And many of those men over the years have pleaded guilty to doping.
But not Lance, who was tested incessantly over the years. The poor guy couldn’t take a leak without having a bevy of scientists/doctors waving piss cups at him. Even porn stars are not that exposed. And he beat all those drug tests.
Still, it wasn’t enough and now Lance Armstrong has had enough.
The U.S. Doping Agency is banning Armstrong from cycling for life and stripping him of his seven Tour de France titles for doping.
Armstrong Thursday night dropped any further challenges to USADA’s allegations that he took performance-enhancing drugs to win cycling’s premier event from 1999-2005, simply saying that “enough is enough” and he will no longer fight the charges.
In walking away, the 40-year-old Armstrong cited a familiar defense: He has never tested positive for performance-enhancing drugs. He said his decision is not an admission of guilt, but a choice to devote more time to his family and his foundation for cancer survivors.
Call me a schmuck. Call me a sentimentalist. Call me a sap. I want to believe him like I want my next breath.
But I can’t.
Enough is enough.
Dying dreams are more painful than winning the Tour de France without drugs and with a lot of heartache on your back.
Say it ain’t so, Lance, while I stuff Q-tips in my ears trying to drown out Hank Williams Jr. from singing Your Cheatin’ Heart.
When I was just a kid knee high to a cactus, I wanted to be a cowboy. A cowboy in a black hat. An outlaw. Just like Jesse James and Billy The Kid. The Outlaw Zeke.
My daddy just had one bit of advice for me if I rode that trail when I was old enough to own my six-shooter.
“Stay out Texas, son,” my daddy done told me. “Them judges there are more ornery than a rattlesnake with psoriasis.”
Well, Texas judge Tom Head must be one mean hombre, cut from the same judicial cloth as Hanging Judge Roy Bean. Judge Head apparently is so tough he eats tumbleweed and washes it down with a high ball of Drano and rot-gut whiskey.
Evidently Judge Head thinks President Obama is the worst human being since Judas. Or at the very least the most hated man in America, by a Texas-sized prairie.
Judge Head has some very serious concerns about what might happen if Obama is reelected.
His (dis)Honor is talking Civil War.
“I’m thinking worst case scenario now,” he said during an interview on his local Fox station. “Civil unrest, civil disobedience, civil war, maybe. And we’re not just talking a few riots here and demonstrations; we’re talking Lexington, Concord, take up arms and get rid of the guy.”
Of course, the judge may know the law (sort of) but his aim when it comes to history is a bit off target. Lexington and Concord were part of the Revolutionary War, not the Civil War.
Apparently, Head’s fear draws from a conspiracy theory that, if reelected, Obama will give the United Nations control over U.S. sovereignty, resulting in the aforementioned civil disobedience.
In the inevitable event that the U.N. will then send troops to get things under control, Head has a plan in place to challenge them.
“And the sheriff, I’ve already asked him, I said, ‘You gonna back me?'” Head said. “I don’t want a bunch of rookies back there. I want trained, equipped seasoned veteran officers to back me.”
You can’t make this stuff up. Even Mel Brooks is not that comically creative.
I don’t know about you, but I thought Todd Akin was a country singer — one of those dudes who wear cowboys hats everywhere including the shower and whose voices warble and twang like my hamstrings after five grueling sets with Serena Williams.
It turns out that Akin actually is congressman from Missouri who never will have a second career as an ob/gyn specialist. Evidently female biology is as foreign to him as common sense.
He also now is a hot potato to fellow Republicans who want no part of juggling him.
Mitt Romney is calling on Akin to step aside in the Missouri Senate race but Akin is a defiant leper. He insists he will carry on in facing Democratic incumbent Claire McCaskill for a seat that Republicans hope will help them gain majority control in the Senate.
Akin, a six-term House member, has been under fire since saying Sunday that pregnancy could be prevented in the case of “legitimate rape” because “the female body has ways to try to shut that whole thing down.”
I have my sincere doubts that rape ever is legitimate, so that phrase alone makes me wonder if Akin’s moral compass vibrates around like a jittery molecule. As for his ignorance about the female reproductive system, it’s obvious he didn’t grow up reading Playboy.
If Newsweek were any farther left on the turnpike, it would be running into oncoming traffic.
So you know 2012 is hardly 2008 when the weekly magazine has a cover story telling President Obama to Hit The Road, Barack.
Of course, a lot of folks are looking back to 2008 as they mark their Obama report card. And they don’t like what they see when they look in their rearview mirror. No wonder they’re scrawling all F’s.
Back in the hope and change promise of 2008, some people thought Michelangelo someday would rise from the dead and paint Obama’s portrait on Mount Rushmore and a White House wall.
During that campaign Obama was leaving many breathless. Now he’s like a bout with pneumonia. He takes your breath away.
He sold hope and change back then but now he couldn’t sell bread in a famine. The dying light takes time and memory for a ride.
Obama promised a lot in 2008. The promises now are hollow and fallow.
Obama definitely is on the ropes. Only the disconnect between Romney/Ryan and segments of voters gives the president a shot at avoiding a first-term knockout.
Presidential campaigns seldom have a Mary Poppins flavor to them.
But the current one seems to be particularly wallowing in fear-mongering.
If you watch WWE or MMA or demolition derbies, you gotta have your eyes Superglued to this race.
If you watch Say Yes to the Dress, this campaign is enough to make you hurl all over your TV screen.
Both Barack Obama and Mitt Romney are portraying the other in ways intended to leave terrified Americans wetting their pants and leaving their knees knocking like bongo drums.
No wonder adult diaper sales have skyrocketed 139 percent in recent months. Just a shame that’s not enough to skyrocket the economy, too.
Romney and the Republicans are attacking Obama’s record in the White House — hammering home the message that this guy is a bad, bad, bad, bad president.
Obama and the Democrats in turn are zeroing in like kamikaze pilots on Romney’s unlikability, his incense-spewing adoration to vulture capitalism and his inordinate inability to relate to everyday Americans — sending the message that this guy is a bad guy.
The problem is I’m starting to believe they’re both bad. Perhaps we should vote both of them into office (assuming there can be a flat-footed tie in the Electoral College vote).
Then again, a blend of a bad president and a bad man definitely would be bad news.