… who relates to Joe & Jill Sixpack
and doesn’t worship A.O.C.!
You may say that I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
SUDDEN INSIGHT! It occurs to this motorcyclist that the putatively pejorative “Deplorable” carries with it the same contradictorily desirable, anti-social cachet that black leather Harley Davidson riders enjoy. Heads-down office workers and soccer dad van drivers during the week, beer-swilling outlaws with loud pipes on weekends.
Now this report from Blaska Experimental Farm (and Penal Colony):
• Many butterflies on the zinnias and cannas. Neighbors reporting the same. Good crop of milkweed helped. Getting ready to migrate to Mexico. WI Public Radio paints the picture.
• A real shame to waste a high-sky Saturday (07-14-19) by leaving Camp Randall Stadium empty. Why backload the schedule to November in this northern clime?
• Enjoyed a Swiss lunch at New Glarus Hotel with its view of the charming downtown and a random drive through the countryside. Marty Road — a designated rustic road just west of New Glarus — was a real find! Photos to follow:
Give the man his due —-
John Nichols is entertaining!
Once again in Sunday’s newsprint, my old comrade waves the tattered flag of impeachment. John buttresses his case by quoting that nationally acclaimed authority … A.O.C.! Now there’s a name to convert all those Trumpsters! To win over independent voters! But that accursed national news media, in John’s telling, fails to give impeachment its proper due because it is “obsessed as it always is with the meanderings of the powerful.”
Huh? Maybe it’s time to quote “Cross Plains Woman” instead of Nancy Pelosi. John, not one of the 10 presidential candidates on stage Thursday promoted impeachment. Reason: the election is less than 14 months away.
Which brings us to Maureen Dowd and her stand-up comedy in the New York Times. Her Sunday piece is headlined:
Let’s debate: Are Democrats doomed?
Blaska Policy Werkes would edit that to “Let’s debate: How bad are Democrats doomed?” Ms. Dowd correctly diagnoses the Left’s disorder this-a-way:
He’s in our heads. Even more than we knew.
“Rent-free” as Our Ms. Vicki would say. (Tell your doctor if you are allergic to the truth. Do not take Blaska’s blog if you faint at the sight of blood, bruise easily, or melt like a snowflake.)
Ms. Dowd’s take on Thursday’s Gang of 10 debate is damning:
There were a lot of good politicians on the debate stage in Houston. But the night rang hollow as they lung to the old conventions — the over-coached performances, the canned lines, the pandering, the well-worn childhood anecdotes mean to project “relatability.”
Say what you will about the man, Donald Trump never pandered. He lit up Jeb, scion of two Republican presidents, like a cheap cigar. He defenestrated Republican free-trade internationalism that had dated back to Eisenhower. He bragged about his billions and hardly denied his eye for the ladies. Like it or lump it.
And worth every penny. Ms. Dowd laments:
The candidates struggled to alchemize our exhaustion into excitement. The three hours seemed endless, with two questions hanging over the night: “Can’t anybody here play this game?” and “Will the most beatable candidate in American history win twice?”
Swear to God Trump CAN be beaten. Not by any of the dwarfs challenging him in the decreasing number of Republican primaries but by an actual dues-paying Democrat willing go full Sister Souljah. Someone who:
• Bellows into the microphone: “Hell NO we won’t impeach!”
• Holds aloft a map of Venezuela whenever Bernie or Elizabeth speaks.
• Turns his wallet upside down as his rivals promise free college and reparations for slavery. (Bonus if a moth can be made to fly out. Perhaps a hologram?)
• Wows the audience when the uniformed president of the New York Benevolent Policeman’s Assn. comes out on stage to shake his hand.
Blaska’s Bottom Line: Such a Democrat could get elected President. But not nominated.