Voting with my feet

Rock on
Make a great downhill course, wouldn't it?

Every now and then I get tired of being a vehicle and become a pedestrian instead. Today was one of those days, so I spent 90 minutes hiking various trails in Palmer Park.

I ride the park at least once a week, usually on one cyclo-cross bike or another, which limits my choices from the trails menu. There may very well be people who can ride the entire Templeton Trail on a ’cross bike, for example, but I am not one of them. So today I stomped around on a mess of trails my wheeled self generally gives a wide berth — the Templeton, the Kinnickinnick, the Cheyenne and the Edna Mae Bennet.

It was a nice change of pace, and also a reminder of the price Bibleburg is paying for the honor of serving as a pilot project for Grover Norquist’s wet dream of drowning a shrunken government in a libertarian bathtub. The park crappers are locked and the water faucets shut off, and I get the impression that a lot of the recent trail maintenance was the work not of parks staff but of volunteers, specifically the Guardians of Palmer Park.

Just outside the park sit empty bus benches bearing signs saying the bus doesn’t stop there anymore, and downtown an even hundred of the century-old trees that make the Old North End so homey are coming down because they are either dead or dying thanks to an extended drought and reduced watering by the city. Plenty of our once-green parks are in a similar woeful state.

Elections have consequences, as folks here and elsewhere are learning the hard way. At least I hope they are.

• Late update: Meanwhile, we’re pouring another $21,500 down the five-ringed loo at the U.S. Olympic Committee — which already cost us $42.3 million in taxpayer dollars — for a temporary mural featuring a local gold medalist in an ludicrous attempt to make ourselves look pretty. Once again, satire runs a very poor second to reality.

Newt-ered

Imagine my dismay: Newt Gingrich’s brain trust spun on its collective heel and marched out the door after the alleged candidate for the GOP presidential nomination decided to go on a two-week vacation a few weeks after a series of miscues right out of the starting gate that would have The Three Stooges muttering, “C’mon, don’t you think that’s a little over the top?”

The inside chatter centers on who wears the boxers in Newt’s most recent marriage, and that would appear to be Callista Gingrich, who is said to have insisted on the vacation. Mama spank. Ouch.

Meanwhile, some folks think this gives impetus to the latest asshat to serve as governor of Texas, Rick “Goodhair” Perry, as the late, great Molly Ivins used to call him. The Texas Observer has had the 411 on this bozo for the better part of quite some time, and their Bob Moser would like nothing better than to see him run and get beat like a rented burro.

But it looks like we’ll have Newt to kick around for a while yet. According to Politico, he announced on Facebook that he was still in the race, “committed to running the substantive, solutions-oriented campaign I set out to run earlier this spring.”

I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. After all, the Stooges have been absent from the national stage for decades.

GOP to run sack of hammers in 2012?

It must be depressing to be a Republican these days. When I was a sprout people said Barry Goldwater was crazy, but he looks like Thomas fuckin’ Jefferson next to the asshats, fucktards, pinheads, fleawits and tools fronting the Grand Old Party these days.

All you have to do is pop round to Steve Benen’s Political Animal — be sure to eat breakfast first, or you’ll lose your appetite — to get the 411 on the Fool Factor:

• Paul Ryan can’t count to 10 without taking his shoes off.

• Newt Gingrich will need a separate campaign bus just to carry all the positions he’s taken (four in the past two weeks) on Ryan’s budget “plan.”

• Mitt Romney acknowledges that there’s “a lot of waste” in the defense budget, but says he wouldn’t trim it by a single, solitary rusty steel penny.

• Michele Bachmann, self-professed fiscal conservative, never met a piece of pork on the hoof that she didn’t smooch right on its flabby porcine lips.

Christ, no wonder Huckabee and Trump ran like roaches from the 2012 presidential clusterfuck. The Repugs would be better off running a sack of hammers against Obama. A sack of hammers may be as dumb as — well, as a sack of hammers — but at least you can trust a hammer, in the hands of an experienced operator, to do what it was designed to do. Not so the other tools in the GOP belt.

• Late update: Speaking of fascism, this story about the Supremes giving cops more leeway to kick down your door without (a) probable cause and (2) a warrant isn’t getting much play. I suppose this means that should the SWAT team get the address wrong, overhear you watching a cowboy movie, conclude that gunfire is being exchanged inside, kick down the door and shoot you nine or 10 times, that you will be ineligible for compensation in addition to being severely dead. Only Ruth Bader Ginsburg dissented. Good for her. And shame on the rest of you black-robed pussies. Kevin Drum also weighs in on the issue.

Boogieman’s gonna get you

I see Obama got the boogieman. Good for him. Can’t say I liked watching my countrymen acting the fool at the news, as though their team had just won the Super Bowl or something, but given the predilection of American politicians for describing warfare in sporting terms I suppose they can hardly be blamed. But I turned off the TV anyway.

I do have one question, though. Who do you suppose the new boogieman is going to be?

Meanwhile, here’s an old boogieman for you, courtesy of Catfish Hodge.