Looking for a reason to admire Herman Cain and despise Newt Gingrich?
Search no further than the land of the tall corn where our economic base grows in rows, where our corn and bean producers have, for a century and a-half, cultivated an image of sober, god-fearing, rugged individualism.
And so they endorse* for President of These United States, ta-da, conservative Newt Gingrich.
Newt Gingrich earned straight A’s on agriculture, energy, trade and other policies measured by the Iowa Corn Growers Association.
They love Newt because he promises to give them all they want of other people's stuff. And I do mean all they want. He is the agripimptorian of the GOP Class of '12.
By contrast, the Row Crop Royalty hates Herman Cain without even referring to off-field boffing. Herm gets a "D" for telling the Corn Growers' Association to put on big-boy pants and quit whining like a 16-year-old unwed mother of three on the south side of Chicago upset because she doan get enough from the welfare.
Our Ron Paul sits in the back of the room with Herman. He also earned a "D" despite not returning the questionnaire. The cornies said they evaluated such refusniks by checking their records and public statements. Paul, of course, has taken several subversive positions, including the radical notion that you should be permitted to put gasoline in your tank.
Just for shidts and grins, I suppose, the corn growers also graded His Ineptness, the sitting president. Barry got a "B," tied with Mitt Romney.
N.B. -- To absorb the full flavor of all this, a guy should take time to click through the links in the news story and on the corn growers candidate report card where you can read the questions and candidate answers. If the corn growers implicit demands don't read like an Acorn wish list I'll kiss your arse in a crop circle and let you take aerial photos with a long lens.
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* “ 'This is a tool for farmers and voters, not an endorsement,' (said) Corn Growers president Kevin Ross..." Kevin, that's bullshit and you know it.
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Dec 1, 2011
Nov 30, 2011
For all you Chevy Volt haters...
It took a few decades, but General Motors has managed to recreate the pyrotechnic potential of the Ford Pinto. You'll all recall the little pony was reputed to enjoy exploding its gas tank in relatively minor crashes.
The piece also justifies its existence with a single sentence:
"As Robert Bryce points out in his book Power Hungry, electric cars are the "Next Big Thing. And they always will be."
The Transformation of Barack Obama
Chris Christie to Barack Obama: "What the hell are we paying you for?"
Thank you, Governor. For some time the TMR has been pondering a new Obama moniker. "His Obamaness" is getting shop worn. Worse, it is much too regal for a president whose fight-or-flight instincts tilt so heavily to the latter. How can we attribute regality to a man whose response to national bankruptcy is a jet trip to Asia and Oceania where his most notable act was ordering a company of U.S. Marines to Australia?
So the stunningly apt Christie question inspires "His Ineptness."
Just over three years ago, Barack Obama capitalized on an amazing run of luck. A lackluster lawyer turned welfare bureaucrat, he possessed a certain personal charm and, more important, a great gift of oratory in the Benny Hinn sense of the term. Local political imperatives in Cook County, Illinois, made him a young state legislator and a very young United States senator. Why? Because Daley's Chicago machine found him useful in group-identity politics.
As a senator his potential for damage was limited, but in 2008 a majority of Americans stared gape-mouthed at one another and asked "What the Hell happened."
The only thing they agreed on was that things had blown up like a Vanguard missile on the launch pad. The bills had come due for optional wars, more optional nation-building across the seas, an avalanche of domestic vote-buying, and government-assisted fraud by our great financial institutions.
Families couldn't pay their bills. Banks and giant insurance companies couldn't pay their bills. Neither could many states, and for damned sure Washington couldn't either.
Enter Hope and Change, Barack Obama as messiah -- or as Robin Hood wielding his long bow in Nottingham Castle and marshaling the peasantry for war on the Evil Prince.
In the event, his quiver was empty, his bow string soaked and stretched. The man was intellectually impotent in any setting more rigorous than a rally of the slack-jawed who once heard and continued to believe that, by right, they were entitled to other people's stuff.
His Ineptness couldn't deliver on his leftist fantasies, even with squads of Little Johns commanding a majority of his Merry Men in the legislative bodies. As the end of A.D. 2011 approached, the president discovered that he was no longer taken seriously.
Of course, Obama's failure to maintain is not a bad thing. We are spared his corps of paramilitarized civilians in "service" to the statist ideal. We escaped some -- too little -- of his desired national health bureaucracy. We have been temporarily spared the final currency collapse as his exchequer officials revved the printing presses to something more than supersonic to meet the cost of his pixie dust dreams.
But we have not evaded a generalized popular dread, that ambition destroying malaise of millions of American souls. They look at the debt. They note His Ineptness and his courtiers, empty suits purporting to guide our destiny.
They begin to suspect that in November of 2008, they fell for a practical joke of cosmic proportion.
And they look at the available -- meaning politically viable --alternatives to His Ineptness, one of whom they may choose in just over 11 months.
And they continue to despair.
Thank you, Governor. For some time the TMR has been pondering a new Obama moniker. "His Obamaness" is getting shop worn. Worse, it is much too regal for a president whose fight-or-flight instincts tilt so heavily to the latter. How can we attribute regality to a man whose response to national bankruptcy is a jet trip to Asia and Oceania where his most notable act was ordering a company of U.S. Marines to Australia?
So the stunningly apt Christie question inspires "His Ineptness."
Just over three years ago, Barack Obama capitalized on an amazing run of luck. A lackluster lawyer turned welfare bureaucrat, he possessed a certain personal charm and, more important, a great gift of oratory in the Benny Hinn sense of the term. Local political imperatives in Cook County, Illinois, made him a young state legislator and a very young United States senator. Why? Because Daley's Chicago machine found him useful in group-identity politics.
As a senator his potential for damage was limited, but in 2008 a majority of Americans stared gape-mouthed at one another and asked "What the Hell happened."
The only thing they agreed on was that things had blown up like a Vanguard missile on the launch pad. The bills had come due for optional wars, more optional nation-building across the seas, an avalanche of domestic vote-buying, and government-assisted fraud by our great financial institutions.
Families couldn't pay their bills. Banks and giant insurance companies couldn't pay their bills. Neither could many states, and for damned sure Washington couldn't either.
Enter Hope and Change, Barack Obama as messiah -- or as Robin Hood wielding his long bow in Nottingham Castle and marshaling the peasantry for war on the Evil Prince.
In the event, his quiver was empty, his bow string soaked and stretched. The man was intellectually impotent in any setting more rigorous than a rally of the slack-jawed who once heard and continued to believe that, by right, they were entitled to other people's stuff.
His Ineptness couldn't deliver on his leftist fantasies, even with squads of Little Johns commanding a majority of his Merry Men in the legislative bodies. As the end of A.D. 2011 approached, the president discovered that he was no longer taken seriously.
Of course, Obama's failure to maintain is not a bad thing. We are spared his corps of paramilitarized civilians in "service" to the statist ideal. We escaped some -- too little -- of his desired national health bureaucracy. We have been temporarily spared the final currency collapse as his exchequer officials revved the printing presses to something more than supersonic to meet the cost of his pixie dust dreams.
But we have not evaded a generalized popular dread, that ambition destroying malaise of millions of American souls. They look at the debt. They note His Ineptness and his courtiers, empty suits purporting to guide our destiny.
They begin to suspect that in November of 2008, they fell for a practical joke of cosmic proportion.
And they look at the available -- meaning politically viable --alternatives to His Ineptness, one of whom they may choose in just over 11 months.
And they continue to despair.
Nov 29, 2011
What gun for grizzlies?
My pardner John swears by the Beretta Jetfire in .22 short. Since you never hike dangerous bear territory without a buddy, he reasons than when a furious old silvertip charges you can shoot your trail-mate in the kneecap and stroll nonchalantly back to the truck. He seems to suggest an in-law as the ideal companion in these circumstances
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