Friday, September 09, 2011

A Man, A Plan, A Canal; Or, Hope Floats

The Post commentariat work on their next round of bons mots and fnords for the plebes to digest and regurgitate.

Maybe it's Hopey-Changey's increasing dithering, or the limitless antics of the 'publitools, but it's genuinely tough to say with absolute certainty whether Milhouse (channelling his inner MoDo) is in his Beltway polemicist/satirist mode, or if the slithering fucktards on the right-hand side of the proverbial aisle really did tweet and giggle and moon each other throughout The Big Speech.

Here's the thing, though -- nobody fucking watched it anyway. I seriously do not think the twitterati (said coinage had greater clarity of meaning before the inane-ovation of Biz Stone pervaded the mass of semi-literate self-marketing goobers) quite get it. For all their follies and fatuity, for all their deep-fried sticks of butter and craving for dancing has-beens and never-weres, the 'murkin people are canny in one key area -- they're too smart to waste one sweet second on this televised kabuki. Even without it being NFL opening day. If they wanted to watch these State of the Union-type circle-jerks, C-Span would have higher (or indeed, any) ratings.

If Obama cares about preserving his own job, not to mention producing some for millions of others, he had best stop with these half-hearted calculations, and find his inner Rick Perry already. People will vote emphatically for a swingin' pair over diffident posturing every day of the week.

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