Asked what he would do as president if he found out Castro had died, Romney said he would first “thank heavens” that the revolutionary had “returned to his maker”, to which Gingrich replied: “I don’t think Fidel’s going to meet his maker. I think he’s going to go to the other place.”

Well, that settles it.  As a former, rather than converted, Catholic, I know this particular construction quite well.  We Catholics are taught to believe that if we aren’t quite Heaven’s CEO, we’re at least pretty high up in its HR department, and can accurately guess who’s going to be promoted, as it were, and who’s getting the boot.  Shortly after the (not soon enough) death of my crazy grandmother, Etta, our family found ourselves sharing stories of her many exploits.  Suddenly nervous, my younger brother Turd asked whether Etta could “hear us from Heaven.”  My mother, Joan, replied simply, “Or the other place.”  Stunned silence was immediately followed by gales of laughter, and permission was thereby granted, if not by anybody ordained, the Monsignor of our household, to make fun of Etta all we wanted.  God was on our side.

In that regard, Newt has a point; like Etta, Fidel is a narcissistic boob who has caused much misery with his megalomania and unchecked authoritarianism.  It’s highly unlikely St. Peter will be lighting his cigar any time soon.  Unlike Etta, though, Fidel has a rather firm grasp on reality; he has ruled a country for a half century, and survived a whole Cold War’s worth of devious machinations from the superpowers.  Etta, on the other hand, had a much smaller sphere of influence.  She was the Beast of Brazee Street, admittedly, but was continually stymied when she wanted to bring the world to the brink of nuclear annihilation for one reason or the other.  That sort of thing was way above her pay grade.  She could rail against the Commies and the Unions until she turned blue (which was often),  but her stamp on geopolitics remained frustratingly faint; God was much more likely to notice, and perhaps think about smiting, Fidel before he ever bothered about Etta.  He did decide to get rid of her in 1980, and Fidel lives on, which is surely evidence of a divine hand on the rudder.  But then God, being omniscient and all, might also have heard this:

“The selection of a Republican candidate for the presidency of this globalized and expansive empire is – and I mean this seriously – the greatest competition of idiocy and ignorance that has ever been,” he (Fidel) wrote.

At this point, if I were God, I’d maybe start thinking that this guy maybe doesn’t need to join Etta across the River Styx.  After all, He did go to a lot of effort, albeit only occasionally successfully, to give us brains, and ol’ Fidel seems to be still using his, while Etta tossed hers out in a way she would never have with, say,  a 30-year old pair of shoes.

Despite whatever Newt says, I’m relatively confident that he hasn’t the least idea whether others are going to Heaven or “the other place.”   Indeed, maybe God will take one look at Callista’s hair and send them both to the Lake of Fire.  As for Etta, I’d suggest that she put on her lipstick; Newt’s about to show up.  I hope it’s soon.

Now, though, the anal excretion that’s soiling Romney’s magic underwear is, you guessed it, Santorum.  It seems that a bunch of butt nuggets affiliated with the smellier regions of the Christian Right, worried that Santorum was, as Politico put it, “slipping behind Gingrich,” had a confab, perhaps in a restroom, in Texas.  These worthies, including but(t) not limited to Gary Bauer, Tony Perkins, James Dobson and others, decided that it was time to, well, cover Santorum’s ass before Romney wiped him up once and for all.

This can’t be good news for a candidate who hoped to leave his “moderate” past, wherein he kind of gave a pass to pillow-biters and allowed more Massachusetts residents to have prostate exams, uh, behind.  Other steaming piles, like his Bain Capital career and unprecedented refusal to release his tax returns, continue to dot the landscape, creating a stinky minefield for him to negotiate in South Carolina, not to mention the larger slice of the Old Confederacy he will have to tiptoe through on Super Tuesday.  Gucci loafers are notoriously inadequate footwear for such perilous terrain.

Further, since all of his statements against Obama seem to be pulled directly from his ass, as Paul Krugman ably, if so far ineffectually pointed out today, he is more vulnerable than ever to charges that since he smelt it, he undoubtedly dealt it.

We might find out differently on Tuesday, but from where I sit (not so broken-hearted) this isn’t what I’d call the sweet smell of success.

When asked what he would do if one of his sons revealed he were gay, Santorum replied, “I would love him as much as I did the second before he said it. And I would try to do everything I can to be as good a father to him as possible.”

Let’s unpack that statement, just for fun.  For starters, “the second before he said it” leaves the sex-phobic creep a little wiggle room.  After all, a second is a brief enough window that even someone so clueless and bonkers as Santorum might have already suspected what was coming, particularly when the lead-in probably would have been, “I know you’re going to hate me for this, but…”  Further, in such an instance, being a “good father” would doubtless include aversion therapy, invocations of Leviticus, and travel brochures about Hell, though not necessarily in that order.

It’s a pickle, really, for a raving homophobe like Santorum to be saddled with so many children that, statistically, one might well turn out to be what he considers to be the moral equivalent of man-on-dog, and may one day even find fault with Dad’s fashion choices.  Let’s hope it’s soon, if only to retire the unflattering sweater vests.

But this misses the larger question; despite their undoubtedly abstinence-based home-schooling, the Santorum children will eventually figure out that even Dad had to have engaged in that icky sex thing no less than eight times, perhaps even a dozen.  Although the act couldn’t possibly have been pleasant for either party, it seemingly did happen.  Though no child likes to imagine his parents en flagrante delicto, for Santorum’s offspring the picture must be particularly unsettling, and not just because he’s, well, Santorum, but because his entire public career has been built around damning the very idea that sex is anything people do so often.  Eight times?  How many Hail Marys did he have to say to atone for such wanton excess?

I always thought, and evidence has generally backed me up, that having a gay child is the surest cure for homophobia, but I don’t believe for a moment that it would do so for Rick, and his answer indicates that he doesn’t, either.  He answers dishonestly because in his mind, it’s impossible that any of his kids could be gay; that sort of thing only happens to other, less perfect people.  For that reason, and that reason alone, I hope he’s right.  It’s bad enough for a straight kid to be saddled with the name Santorum.  For a gay boy, it would be the worst thing possible, in more ways than one.

No tendentious description of the phenomenon is required, nor is a detailed and boring historical context necessary, since they (like the poor) “have always been with us.”   But the sudden “surge” of poseurs, fakers, demagogues, deadbeats, and crooks stands out right now, as our vaunted world economy teeter-totters, and institutions – from colleges to banks to temples of journalism, and pinnacles of power – croak under the strain.

Here’s a partial list, culled from today’s headlines, of new and emerging Little Men.  Please feel free to add a name which may have been missed in this initial installment.  Step right up!  There’s room for everyone, and probably no end to it, once the battle has been joined.

Herewith:  The Little Men Of The Moment!

Silvio Berlusconi - the blessedly former prime minister of Italy.  The ultimate Mistero Buffo of Italian politics pledged to resign (and by God he did!) if a new, technocratic government now in formation can begin cobbling together a fiscal plan to prevent massive default by Italy, a member state in the Eurozone.  But like the magician/clown he is, some skeptical Burlesquecrony-watchers are wondering if this world-class fraudster and cockmaster will ever leave the stage (and, by God! – he hinted upon departing he might continue lurking behind the arras, in Milan).  What is not in dispute is Berlusconi has diddled and fiddled within his court of  whores and bunga bunga hangers-on, while failing, over twenty years, to do the job he was elected to do, so that Italy – more than Greece, Portugal, Spain, or Ireland – may truly sink the European “common market,” and possibly, the world economy itself.  Basta!

Joe Paterno – the disgraced former head football coach of Penn State.  Whereas Berlusconi was not a great man, Paterno might have been, to the extent he fashioned a winning, and honorable, sports tradition.  He did win a lot of football games; ya gotta give him that!  Brought truckloads of money to Beaver Stadium too!  His teams won, or contended for, quite a few national championships.  And he did, judging by the loyalty of the Penn State community, demand and get excellence from his players, on and off the field, for over two generations.  Some of them actually read books; most graduated.  He did not, sadly, measure up when faced with an unavoidable moral dilemma.  He has experienced a great fall.  His catharsis, and that of Penn State, awaits.

Jon Corzine – resigned CEO of MF Global, former Democratic governor and senator from New Jersey, former Goldman Sachs honcho.  Corzine took a mere year and a half or so to capsize MF Global, which traced its lineage to the sugar trade in late 18th century England.  Corzine bet on sovereign debt and lost.  Big.  MF Global under Corzine, a darling of Democratic big wigs, reported a nearly $192  million quarterly loss after betting on European government bonds.  At the end of October the company’s credit rating went to junk, and it filed for Chapter 11.  About a thousand Wall Street wizards went out on the dole.  Just like that.  MF Global’s demise has been logged in as the 8th largest bankruptcy in American history.  Corzine, a little man posting big losses, appears to have a few little Democratic Party leaders around him, saying:  “sssshhhh.”

Bill O’Reilly – reigning Fox News gasbag.  O’Reilly, a little twit with global reach, has been enjoying a two months-long perch on the New York Times bestseller list with a book he “wrote” on the assassination of Abraham Lincoln.  However, the “no spin” king’s tome has been banned from the shelves of the Ford’s Theater book store, operated by the National Park service.  Ford’s Theater was where Lincoln was shot by the mad thespian, John Wilkes Booth.  Among numerous errors cited in the book, O’Reilly asserts there was an Oval Office in Lincoln’s White House, when in fact the executive suite was not built until 1909, when, presumably, there was a federal budget surplus.  In another egregious error, O’Reilly for some reason had Honest Abe “furling” his brow sometime before he was shot (he might have been furling about the feckless Gen. McClellan).  Everyone knows a man would “furrow” his brow, not furl the damn thing, whatever the situation, right?  This flap from Ford’s Theater appears to be a collection of minor quibbles to the author.  O’Reilly’s publisher says the little man is working on another quickie about presidents, to be written in a “narrative, novelistic fashion.”  O’Reilly responded to the Ford’s Theater critique by saying, “Enemies are trying to hurt my book.”

Rick Perry - governor of Texas and Republican presidential candidate.  Perry doesn’t know which federal departments he wants to shut down, but he does know he wants American foreign aid under his administration to start with no money.  Way to go, little man!  Perry may seem drunk at debates he’s appeared in, but it’s just the best a little man from Texas can do.  What can you expect from a guy who used Whiteout on a rock at the entrance to his family’s vacation retreat, but can’t remember why exactly?  Also, such a little man should be cut some slack if he thinks real, light amber New England maple syrup might work as a companion to barbecue sauce!

Michael Bloomberg - mayor of New York.  Well now he’s done it!  There’s a lot of talk in the city about how bored Bloomberg is with his job; and a guy I know who was hanging around Zuccotti Park on Tuesday morning while the cops were mopping up says simply that Bloomie will run for prez as an indie and pull close to 20 percent, drawing the indie vote,  while cutting into Obama’s hide.  Result:  one crazy Republican president, unless it’s Willard the flip-flopper.  Maybe Bloomie will turn out to be a little big man.

Karl Rove – formerly Bush’s brain.  During an appearance at Johns Hopkins recently, Rove, evidently exasperated by taunts from OWS protestors and other unsavory characters, actually challenged one (or all) of them to a fight.  This does not compute.  It’s just hard to imagine this dweeby little man stepping up to his own challenge.  Bombast knows no bounds.

Rush Limbaugh – radio bombasterbasta! – par excellence.  This week the little man of the airwaves used every slur in the book to denigrate the OWS protesters, particularly those evicted from Zuccotti Park, since Tuesday was not a slow news day, and therefore an opportunity for el Rushbo to spike his sagging rating a tad.  Limbaugh spent minute after minute on one of his shows this week obsessing about the OWSers’ tendencies to spew precious bodily fluids all over public spaces across America’s fruited plain, just to call attention to their sad state, which to dittoheads means they’ll have to move back home with Mom & Dad when it’s all over – as a spent force.  Only a man with a little whatnot could stoop to that.

Well, there you have it!  But there are many other candidates to be nominated, to say nothing of the untold millions of Honorable Mentions, past and present.  Step right up.  Tell the nation who you’d like to see on the Pedestal of Heroes in this category.

I’ve compiled a list, by no means exhaustive, of the many ways that Democrats have basically become Republicans, and a somewhat shorter one that makes them look like Appalachian relatives thereof, and an asterisk or two at the end where the alert might be able to spot a difference.

Things on Which Democrats and Republicans Completely Agree:

First, that voters are stupid, as you can see:

Wars (and military spending in general) are the coolest things ever, and as such, great domestic sacrifices of blood and treasure must be made to pay for them, now and forever.

These marvelous wars are the sole choice of the Commander In Chief, consulting with Fox News.

Social Security must be cut.

The rich must never be forced to pay even a proportionate share of taxes.

America never will join the rest of the civilized world in providing health care for all its citizens without the corporate plundering that makes it unaffordable.

What’s good for Wall Street is good for America, and the rich really are America’s Best People..

Nuclear Power is the greatest thing since cesium-laced sliced bread.

There’s such a thing as “Clean Coal.”

All mergers are good mergers, the bigger the better.

Last, my personal favorite:  That the Federal Budget is, somehow, like the Family Budget, and thus must behave the same way, errant nonsense that refuses to die, despite being repeatedly and catastrophically disproven.

I could go on, but I might be too drunk by the time I finish.

Things on Which Democrats and Republicans Differ Just Enough To Warrant Expensive and Deceptive Political Battles with Each Other Every Two Years:

Gay Marriage: Republicans oppose it maniacally, Democrats more politely.

Global Warming: Republicans don’t believe in it at all, Democrats agree we shouldn’t do anything about it.

Domestic Spying:  Republicans think we should be sneakier about it, Democrats prefer a more open approach.  (Wait a minute…  Does this belong in the first category?)

When having our awesome, badass wars, Democrats like to have the UN involved, whereas Republicans just want to git’er done; both don’t mind losing expensively and humiliatingly, as long as it takes a long time, by which time they’ll all be lobbyists.

Republicans think doctors who perform abortions are murderers and should be preemptively killed; Democrats agree that women who are such sluts that they go around getting pregnant should pay dearly.

Republicans think we should drill, baby, drill everywhere and anywhere, damn the consequences; Democrats agree, but only if we don’t drive every species into extinction along the way, or at least too rapidly.

Republicans want to kill the unions once and for all, while Democrats, like Rahm Emanuel, have intentions slightly less malevolent; they just want to fuck them.  It’s a little like Jeffrey Dahmer magnanimously stopping a date halfway through, but nonetheless not much to hold onto.

Republicans believe that Fox News is the only legitimate news channel; Democrats agree that it is important to appear on the “influential” network and thus accord it the prestige it does not deserve.

Republican believe that big business should never be regulated, ever, and Democrats meekly add that maybe here and there it perhaps should, but not in a time of (war, recession, meltdown, or on a day ending in “y.”).

Republicans believe that America is A “Christian Nation,” and would like our laws to be based on the Old Testament; Democrats agree and weakly point to parts of the New Testament, too, on their way to church.

Things on Which the Two Parties Actually Disagree, Sometimes:

Hmmm.  By the time I got through with the other two lists, I ran out of notes, leaving this category a tad bereft, which looks like poor work as far as formatting is concerned.  Maybe a particularly alert Hag reader could think of something for me.  Or better yet, for our dear President. So far all he’s got is to tell the “base,” assuming he knows what that is, to “swallow their anger.”  I hate to even metaphorically echo Rush Limbaugh”s “shoving it down our throats” comment on this one, but in this case, “swallow” is about right.

The CHNN eastern desk reported recently that Harlan Harrington, the network’s go-to international correspondent and expert on Mediterranean scandals of all sorts, was skiing in Switzerland, accompanied by Lois Farnsworth, a former Miss North Dakota, and largely unavailable.

Until this week.

Harlan said he’s been overwhelmed, not to mention overdone, by the tempest in Italian politics, and has not been able to mount a massive,  Guernica-size report on Berlusconi’s titanic struggle to hold onto power.  Occasional thousand word pieces fail to do this story justice, Harlan said, and since the CHNN flying boat is in winter storage in Bismarck, he’s also had some difficulty just hopping down to Milan, as he is wont to do, to examine court briefs against the PM.

Still, Harlan does have a snippet of news, small beer though it may be to those ravenous readers of all things bunga bunga in Rome.

The prime minister, according to Harlan, met this week with a select group of Vatican leaders, ostensibly to celebrate the 82nd anniversary of the signing of the Lateran Pact of 1929.  The Roman Catholic church struck a deal at that time with then Italian leader Benito Mussolini, providing for official state recognition of Vatican City and it’s core structures.  The church built a village and people came, long before the idea occurred to Hillary Rodham Clinton.

The meeting between the clerics and the prime minister was described by observers as “correct,” as the church, itself embroiled in a worldwide institutional sexual abuse scandal, appeared to be sensitive to the need to reach out to the prime minister, somehow or other, without appearing to ignore or condone the colorful contours of the premier’s personal life.

Back to the small beer.

Italian reporters helped Harlan out a bit with some details of the meeting, pointing out that church leaders still see Berlusconi as an ally on right to life issues, and as a possible source of money – direct, or, if need be, indirect.

A bill now before the Italian parliament,  and favored by the church, would include a one euro ($1.36) tax hike on commercial movie tickets.  Church-owned “family friendly” theaters would be exempt.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7uGkuyc2OmY

As picayune as such a negotiating point might appear to the uninformed, non-Italian political observer, Harlan emphasized the Machiavellian quality to the church-state dance now underway between Vatican leaders and Berlusconi.

Observers said Berlusconi, sitting in a large, blood-red upholstered, gold-leaf wing chair, appeared to wince slightly as the ticket issue was raised in whispered tones by a cleric assigned to the task.  The Leader then nodded as if in assent, conveying a confessional demeanor.

Harlan ended his report to the CHNN eastern desk with this quote from an Italian legislator:  “The church has an enormous influence on politics still,” says Italo Bocchino, a lawmaker who defected from Mr. Berlusconi’s party  last year (the political party, not the one at his Sicilian retreat with Vladimir Putin).  “If the church had said Berlusconi was incompatible with governing, he would have fallen.  But they didn’t.”

Catholic reporter Andrea Gagliarducci observed:  “It is diplomacy.  You take everything you can.  You make agreements even with people you don’t trust.”

Harlan told the eastern desk  he’s thinking of bringing that message personally – along with a large shipment of The Prince in paperback – to activists and leaders in Madison, Wisconsin, and maybe Ohio, as soon as he packs his skis and can get himself and Lois on a plane back to Bismarck.

It’s funny how some people don’t really become legendary until they’re dead, and there’s a reason for it; their carefully crafted images never squared with the reality, and each day they continued in public life they could only grow smaller in the eyes of their fans.  Leaving the planet, then, turned out to be quite the career move for Elvis and others, of course, but no one has benefitted more from this odd truism borne of mass amnesia than former President Ronald Reagan, whose centennial falls, just as the Gipper would have wanted it, this Super Bowl Sunday.*  (*Straight Pride Day, here at CHNN…)

“Reagan was the beginning,” an otherwise politically uninvolved friend told me once, “of the whole thing being completely phony.  They could just say anything.”  Make no mistake:  when the right pays gushing homage to Reagan, it is the stunning success of this little trick that they’re really celebrating.   Long before Reagan became the sainted icon of all that is good about America, he was called, approvingly, the Teflon President, whose gaffes, lies, hypocrisy, and cluelessness never stuck, mainly because the media decided they never should.  The world gaped in horror as Reagan’s loose talk about “Armageddon and so forth” or his tone-deaf appearance at Bitburg cemetery stunned foes and allies alike; today he is, get this, seen as some kind of statesman.  The US shuddered under two painful recessions and the collapse of the Savings and Loan industry amid a tripling of national debt, yet today his economic policies are still considered a model, rather than a warning.  The first divorced President and an admittedly uninvolved parent, Reagan is now seen as some sort of paragon of family values, never mind the fact that he took more stock in his wife’s astrologers than he did any of the bible-thumpers who so often darkened his doorway.  By this measure, he was a great success.  Cheney once said, “Reagan showed us deficits don’t matter,” but he was being too modest.  Reagan showed Republicans that reality doesn’t matter, if you play your cards right.

No wonder they’re so fond of naming things for him.  Had it not been for Reagan, would stupidity have become a prerequisite, rather than an impediment, for gaining the Republican nomination?  Would easily disprovable lies of the sorts Bush told whenever his mouth was open have flown so effortlessly through the ether?  I doubt it.  Reagan was, in a sense, an experiment, and to the detriment of all of us, it succeeded.  How much corruption, mendacity, and lawlessness would America tolerate, if it was under the relentlessly sunny administration of an “amiable dunce?”  How much would the always available strains of racism and intolerance amongst working-class Americans compel them to vote, repeatedly, against their own economic interests? How much could the inevitable disasters created by right-wing economic dogma be blamed upon others?  In each case, the answer turned out to be, “a lot.”

The key, then, was to find candidates who could perform the rather tricky task of selling plutocracy as “freedom,” military extravagance and adventurism as “strength,” and the bubble of the week as “prosperity.”  In life, Reagan had a mixed record marketing such errant nonsense, but in death, his record improved considerably.  What George H. W. Bush once rightly called “Voodoo Economics” is, especially since Obama’s shameful caving on the Bush Tax Cuts recently, now bipartisan Holy Writ in the perfumed chambers of Washington.  A Pentagon that now gobbles half of the discretionary budget each year is a given; unions, that bulwark of postwar middle-class prosperity, lie in ruins, and the poor have not only been abandoned, but demonized.

The internet era term for what Reagan spawned, IOKIYAR, was clearly little more of an update on Reagan’s analog-era 11th Commandment, “Thou shalt not speak ill of a Republican,” and it’s with us today more than ever.  And to those of us who’ve lived with the consequences all these dreary years, Reagan’s little retort, and the reaction of the crowd in the video above sums it up nicely.

I am Carl Paladino, a father, a husband, a builder and a business owner. I am neither perfect, nor a career politician. I have made mistakes in this campaign – I have made mistakes all my life – as we all have. I am what I am – a simple man who works hard, trusts others, and loves his family and fears for the future of our State.

Again, no mention of that unusual family of his, with a little Palinesque “I’m stupid, too, so I can’t be all bad” thrown in for good measure.

Yesterday I was handed a script. I redacted some contents that were unacceptable. I did also say some things for which I should have chosen better words. I said other things that the press misinterpreted and misstated. I sincerely apologize for any comment that may have offended the Gay and Lesbian Community or their family members. Any reference to branding an entire community based on a small representation of them is wrong.

Here’s real genius in action; he freely admits that he reads scripts handed him by whatever religious nuts he’s courting that day, and rather than disputing its authors, leaves out some, but not all, of the crazy stuff in it.  Then he, of course, blames the press for his own laziness, cravenness, and blatant pandering to extremists.

My personal beliefs are:

1) I am a live and let live person. That’s pragmatic, given that he takes his 10-year-old love child to campaign events and everything, but since the group he was addressing decidedly does not believe in “live and let live,” his “refudiation” of their views makes him look, well, not too bright.

2) I am 100% against discrimination of any group. I oppose discrimination of any kind in housing, credit, insurance benefits or visitation. Well, that’s a bit more modern than, say, Strom Thurmond, but considerably to the right of New Yorkers.

3) I am 100% against hate crimes in any form. Nobody asked, but if you’re already running out of “virtues” after two, might as well throw it in.

4) I am in support of civil agreements and equal rights for all citizens. I guess he means Civil Unions, but he decided that the moment wasn’t right to say anything too specifically pro-gay, WHEN APOLOGIZING TO GAY PEOPLE.  Sheesh.

5) My position on marriage is based on my personal views. I have the same position on this issue as President Barrack (sic) Obama. I have previously stated I would support a referendum by New York voters. I have proposed Initiative and Referendum so New Yorkers can decide important issues like this. Yeah, just like when Alabama voted to do away with Jim Crow, Carl.  It would also help if you, say, knew how to spell the President’s name, and if your personal definition of marriage weren’t One Man/Several Women.

6) The portrayal of me as anti-gay is inconsistent with my lifelong beliefs and actions and my prior history as an (sic) father, employer and friend to many in the gay and lesbian community. But it’s absolutely consistent with what you said just a day ago; I know you didn’t write it, but you did say it, and the portrayal seems pretty apt.

I am concerned with the future for all our citizens, gay, straight, Catholic, Protestant, Jewish and Muslim and Agnostic. Although I am not perfect I do admit my mistakes. I will reach out to leaders of the gay community to educate me on how to better represent my support for the rights of all citizens. If elected as your governor I will stand and fight for all gay New Yorkers rights. I ask you for forgiveness on my poorly chosen words and the publication by others not involved with our campaign of unredacted script that did not reflect my oral statement or match my personal feelings. Please go to my website www.paladinoforthepeople.com to learn more detail about the issues including my staunch support for civil rights for all New Yorkers.

Carl Paladino

I guess ol’ Carl needs to go to the Karl Rove school of Lying in Politics.  First, admitting you’re wrong, even if you are, is always a mistake, and apologizing just makes it worse.  You turn off the religious crazies you were initially courting, and the group you initially disparaged isn’t going to believe your fake apology, either.  Much better to attack, misdirect, blame the victims, and quickly move on; you lose less votes that way.  Alas, Carl is a bit too dumb to grasp this, and as a result, has probably spared New Yorkers the embarrassment of having a stupid person for their Governor.

Update:  Sure enough, some Taliban-like rabbi has already withdrawn his prior endorsement of Paladino, and no drag queens have moved over to his side, either.  Quelle surprise.

I’ve long been a skeptic of the purported “wave” election coming up, wherein the “overreaching” Democrats are steamrollered by a stampede of righteous elephants, no matter how cuckoo and/or substance-free their candidates are.  Although most of the craziest ones have shunned all but their own mouthpieces on Fox and talk radio, they still, once in a while, have to open their pie holes, and stuff like the above clip is the inevitable result.  Intoxicated by the smell of Dick Armey’s farts, bedazzled by Glenn Beck’s delusions of grandeur, and clearly as dumb as a box of rocks, this hectoring harridan, Renee Ellmers, seeks to unseat a Democratic incumbent in North Carolina by jumping on the anti-Muslim crazy train and taking it to Washington.  The irony is pretty rich.

First, she starts by breaking Sarah Palin’s “Speak through Fox” rule, and goes on CNN to “defend” her inflammatory, racist, and outright false ad.  Next, she eschews doing even the slightest bit of pre-interview homework, having no idea who the Imam in NY even is, for one thing, and starts robotically spouting off the most ridiculous, combative nonsense, all easily refuted by the slightest fact-checking.  Then, she tops it off by attacking mild-mannered Anderson Cooper with the sort of bonkers, “anti-Christian” smears that go over great on hate radio, but presumably somewhat less well with CNN’s more sentient audience, a fact of which she seems blissfully unaware.  Worse, the wily CNN host has an expert witness waiting in the wings right after her, a sneaky, effective journalistic trick that makes Katie “Gotcha” Couric look like Greta Van Susteren by comparison.

There’s method to her madness, though….   She will no doubt deceptively edit the clip, throw it up on her website, brag to her racist cracker supporters about how she gave the lamestream media the what-for, declare victory, and they’ll believe her.  The only fly in the ointment is, as the backbench congresswomen she unaccountably thinks she’s qualified to be, she will have no say whatsoever about New York zoning decisions, so the whole premise of the ad is a manipulative lie, designed to goad the ignorant into voting for more tax cuts for the rich and crippling expenditures on disastrous, belligerent foreign policy that will, of course, provoke more terrorism and further impoverish Americans at home.  To anyone capable of fogging a mirror, it’s people like this nutty woman who will pave the way for more American deaths at the hands of terrorists, not fewer, and keeping her out of Washington is one way to stanch the continuing hemorrhage of blood and treasure Republican overreactions like hers invariably produce.

Typical of teabaggers like herself, she’s mum on any salient policy position North Carolinians might want to hear about in this dreadful economy, and better yet, she blames her opponent for resorting to smears and name-calling, since it’s he who doesn’t have anything better to talk about.  Earth to Renee….  You’re in fucking NORTH CAROLINA, and you’re running a campaign for the House on what you deceptively call the “Ground Zero Mosque.”  Who’s short on material?

Polls are tightening from Kentucky to California, roughly coinciding with voters getting an earful of the insultingly stupid horseshit like what just plopped out of Renee Ellmers, and the election is still over a month away.  The Republicans have mammon, in spades, on their side, and they’re happy and eager to tell you they have God, too, but what they don’t have is brains, class, or anything approaching a viable solution to the myriad problems they themselves caused, and miracle of miracles, this fact seems to be dawning on the corporate media, as evidenced here.  If Ellmers is expecting a sweep, it’s too bad for her that she’s borrowed Chistine O’Donnell’s broom, and rejected Sarah Palin’s, uh, “wisdom.”