Monday, September 24, 2012

Mitt Romney's Magical Mystery Tour


Romney, On The Bus, Wants You All To Drink The (Electric) Kool-Aid, Man



Once upon a time, I enjoyed the experience of psychoactive chemicals in many varieties of their manifestations, as often as I could get my hands on them.  There were a number of reasons for this; some existential and searching, and others recreational. It isn't something I'd jump at now quite as readily, but for about three years I and a group of like-minded dirty hippies had a good bit of fun.

I remember a warm summer afternoon when a group of friends -- all of us near-Stratospheric in our tripping -- decided we would get in a car and go across the Golden Gate Bridge to get hamburgers somewhere in Marin County. When actually receiving our burgers, they seemed icky and strange, and we were eyed carefully by a pair of CHP officers on a coffee break, but no matter).

I turned to look at my friend who suggested this, the owner of the car; his head appeared to be on fire -- I mean, a blowtorch, engulfed in flames like something out of Marvel Comics. "Man," I said casually, "You are absolutely way too fucked up to drive. Gimmie the keys."

Mitzy's campaign is an anology to that story. Not only is he a clueless empty suit who can't connect with the "common people" because he has utterly no idea what the lives of 'ordinary' Americans are like -- but whatever vision of America he's tripping on, he thinks it's everyone else whose head is on fire -- and he's telling us to hand him the keys.  (Snort) Yeah; right.

Think I'm kidding?
Via Wonkette:

 “When you have a fire in an aircraft, there’s no place to go ... and you can’t find any oxygen from outside the aircraft to get in the aircraft, because the windows don’t open. I don’t know why they don’t do that. It’s a real problem."
America continues to stand in mute wonder at the sight of a rich, pampered adult human, believing so completely in a Fox News, Karl Rove RedState, Grover Cleveland Drudge Norquist, Zombie-Reagan separate reality where scientific principles regarding combustion and explosive decompression have been negated, right along with the Affordable Health Care Act.

Or, as we watched on teevee last night, when Mitzy spoke with CBS Anchor and '60 Minutes' Journalist Scott Pelley while flying in his campaign jet, the Starship:
No, we're even -- we're even in the polls. There are all kinds of polls, every day there's a poll; you're up, you're down -- and say, Scott; check out this glow-in-the-dark Play-Doh, man; it's so fuckin' cool. And you know you have a tentacle growing out of your forehead, right? Don't worry; it looks good on you -- and holy bee-jeebers, it's hot in here, what with all the bunnies and the cattle. Mind if I open a window?
If America were an airliner in flight, and Mitzy ended up as it's captain, he would open a window at 35,000 feet -- just because it made some kind of bizarre sense to him to let the air in.
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MEHR:  I am reminded by El Rog The Magnificent, my fellow resource at The Place Of Witless Labor™,  that the One Per Centers such as Mitzy are different from you and me:

Remember that Mitt's idea of "Middle Class" are those making $250,000.00 per year, and his circle can afford to spend more at a single meal than most people earn in a year.... If you can't afford to set your house on fire and walk away when the toilet paper roll is empty, and go to one of your other houses, don't bother him.

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Please feel free to thrill all humankind with the brilliance and importance of You. And forgo all civility (especially the passive-aggressive sort, aggression masquerading as mildness) . . . you are, after all, anonymous.

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