Posted October 30, 2015on:
To paraphrase at length from one of my favorite movies, “I don’t know whether to scratch my watch or wind my butt.” Courtesy of the third Republican debate, “If they are trying to drive me crazy, it’s too late.” I’m not sure, but “They might all be crazy as well as in a bad mood for the last 40 years.” Our imagination on Wednesday didn’t hold a candle to the reality of that night’s two-hour Screff Fest.
Granted, the moderators did suck, but that suckitude didn’t emanate from their questions. When the moderators allowed themselves to be overrun and overruled on who, when, and how long someone could speak, they lost control and it should disqualify them from gainful post-debate employment as substitute teachers.
Now it looks like all the campaigns are going to get together on Sunday for a Coachella Whine and Pine Festival. Their beef – those mean moderators asked us unfair questions that were just too hard.
Here’s the truth – when you straight up lie about something and are called on it, yeah, that’s hard to answer. When the math underlying your economic and tax policy doesn’t add up, yeah, it’s hard to explain an alternate version of reality. When you go avalanching the 1% with more money than they have time to sack away, while simultaneously increasing taxes on the middle class, yeah, the justification for something like that is rough around the edges.
When you won’t answer: Why should you be put in charge of the nation’s economy since your profligate spending resembles a drunken teenage boy on Spring Break at a liquor/brothel/all-you-can-eat mini-mart and video rental store? Those characteristics don’t necessarily inspire trust. Marco Rubio’s financial problems didn’t come from being a hardworking, student loan paying, ethnic Cuban Boy Scout. His financial problems started when he was making $300,000 a year as an attorney, tooling around in a $50,000 leased Audi, and owning parts or all of three houses. It’s not undocumented when you pay for your driveway with a Republican credit card and get caught. It’s not unfounded when you have a long and sorted history of being a virtual cabana-boy for a billionaire who still employs your wife, get paid almost a million dollars for a memoir no one read, and buy a speedboat because it is a “dream you’ve always had”.
And the big question before that necrophiliac funeral director, Ted Cruz, went on his ranting rap about the media? The question was, “Why are you opposing the bipartisan budget deal?” That was the question — that was it and he cut loose with his soliloquy. Hardly unfair, just embarrassing to admit you are just lubing-up the teapot hordes.
There’s a theory that the Republican Party has become such a ridiculous parody of itself, the questions just seem unfair because there are no good answers. What’s more — there are no sane answers for their craziness. That is what happens when you gallivant so far to the right you hit your head on rocks in the Van Allen Belt.
The big idea is to cut out input from the RNC and Prince Priebus, who could screw up a one car funeral. The goal of this Twilight-esque coven is to give birth an other-worldly, entirely new debate format. So far the idea floated by funeral director Cruz is to have Rush Limbaugh, Sean Hannity, and Hugh Hewitt moderate the remaining debates. The ultimate in schizoid isolationist behavior — pulling away from reality and submersing oneself in the fact-free world of talk radio. Please, please, please, let that happen.
All I can say is that I hope Hillary anesthetizes these fish before she takes target practice in their barrel.
My final paraphrase for these fragile, delicate, porcelain magnolias is this, “These Republican candidates are evil and they must be destroyed, but they are taking care of that faster than anyone else ever could.”
Have a great Friday and take the conversation in any direction you might like.
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