I can't believe how much time McCain devoted to his POW saga in his convention speech. I thought that was mostly a job for surrogates. How wrong I was. How ironic that the original chicken-hawk party finally touts its war experience now, five-and-a-half years after we first invaded Iraq.
I can't believe how little the playbook has changed since 1980. Big government Democrats blah blah blah, we're the real patriots blah blah blah, we want to give YOU the choice (unless you choose abortion) blah blah blah.
Add 9/11, 9/11, 9/11 and stir.
No amount of "Governor Palin is my soulmate" will change that script.
I think Chris Matthews just coughed up a hairball. If I'm not wrong, I think Keith Olbermann just called the RNC festivities "the political equivalent of Chuck E. Cheese." No wonder I'm cringing.
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Y'know, I used to own a 1974 Ford Maverick. Four doors, a V-8 engine, metallic copper paint. Bumpers that put up with my incompetent parking skills. It blew up on the freeway near Hercules, California, in 1988 with Grey Kitty in the backseat, unconfined. (This taught me the virtues of a cat carrier.) I thought it spontaneously combusted, but no, it was just the radiator. The blow-up was nonetheless fatal - to the Mav, that is. GK and I survived.
If the American public is about to invest in a "Maverick" (or two), we deserve whatever blow-up we get.
Update 9/5/08: I just fixed the typo in the first line so the percentages no longer read 6% to 35%. I'm discouraged, yes, but I'm not quite that math-challenged. Phooey!
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