Category: Deep political thought

iBike 2012: Bibleburg to Flagstaff

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 18 Comments
One of my favorite spots in Santa Fe. Or anywhere else, come to think of it.
One of my favorite spots in Santa Fe. Or anywhere else, come to think of it.

FLAGSTAFF, Ariz. (MDM) — There’s nothing quite like listening to Bach’s “Art of the Fugue” while motoring through the New Mexican desert, flipping the bird to Mitt Romney billboards.

I made the usual stops en route — Ten Thousand Waves, which as usual was awesome; and Second Street Brewery, which oddly was not (I guess everyone has a bad day coming, and theirs was Sunday night).

As I barreled westward the CD player spared me the news that the RomneyBot v2.012 had managed to waffle-stomp its electronic pecker again. I didn’t catch up on that action until I came within range of KNAU just outside Flagstaff, and may I say that it’s always pleasant to have one’s worst suspicions confirmed?

The guy called slightly less than half the country a shiftless bunch of jigaboos, beaners and white-trash layabouts who while away the hours sleeping off a drunk in their Cadillacs until it’s time to cruise down to the welfare office and harvest a bale of feddle-gummint money before getting their gold tooth polished at the Mayo Clinic.

The janitors at the Republican National Committee must have had a hell of a time sweeping up all the hair on the floor after that pail of mierda hit the abanico. But I bet they were whistling while they worked.

RomneyBot’s Mendacity Engine working overtime

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 6 Comments

There is nothing about which Mitt Romney will not lie. Not even the murder of a U.S. ambassador and the current president’s response to the crime.

Kevin Drum has the nuts and bolts of it (heavy on the nuts). Read it and weep, because this asshole could be the next resident of the Oval Office if we’re not careful.

Consider the firestorm of outrage had it been a Democratic candidate who had the effrontery to cobble together this shameless political attack out of whole cloth after four of our ambassadors were killed while serving the nation abroad. Home Depot would sell out of pitchforks, torches and rope before Denny’s served its first Grand Slam of the morning.

The real Tampa Bay buccaneers

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 8 Comments
The chefs and proprietors of The Local enjoy a chuckle despite it being 91 outside and at least twice that in their Chevy Step-Van.

Oh, Lord, am I ever glad that the likes of Charles P. Pierce, Ed Kilgore and Steve Benen are following this Floridian fuckery so I don’t have to.

There is something excruciatingly discordant in the keening of pirates who, after scuttling the Ship of State with pointless warfare and the dispensation of booty unclaimed from same to all their mates, have the effrontery to dress down the colored fella we hired to police up this mess for his failure to immediately raise the wreckage from the Mariana Trench in which they left it, tow it to drydock a la Jack LaLanne and then promptly outfit it as a luxury yacht for honkies who make extravagant bets with each other using other people’s money and call that work.

Thus after a quick whiff of the same old bullshit I sailed away on my Nobilette for a cruise through the Broadmoor, then fired up the Vespa for a voyage to the Colorado Farm and Art Market to take a few pix of a nifty startup, The Local.

This food truck is manned  (womaned?) by a couple of lively U.S. Air Force vets who are bringing tasty Mexican-American-Asian cuisine to the landlubbers here in Bibleburg. I’m talking burgers on a pretzel bun with bacon jam — yes, bacon jam — and Korean barbecue tacos.

I shot the pix for The Farm Beet, one of the many sombreros worn by my friend and colleague Hal Walter of Hardscrabble Times, and I don’t imagine that he’ll object if I post one here.

Honky if you love Romney

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 15 Comments
Jockeying for position in the presidential contest.

The RomneyBot v2.012 mistook President Obama for one of its gardeners and tried to fire him yesterday.

“Take your campaign of division and anger and hate back to Chicago and let us get about rebuilding and reuniting America,” it hummed.

The only word missing from that sentence was “boy.”

“Campaign of division and anger and hate?” Romney and the Rethugs have called Obama everything save a bone-nosed, watermelon-eatin’ lawn jockey and yet the prez manages to refrain from calling his opponent a lying sack of runny chickenshit whose tongue has more plastic forks than a Salt Lake City Chick-fil-A.

I still have no idea why this slimy prick wants the job he seems to need so desperately. And I’ll never find out by listening to him, because the truth is simply not in him and the media seem unwilling or unable to squeeze it out of him. Doesn’t he already own a couple of white houses?

Jesus wept. The squawk of a Jersey Giant and the balls of a parakeet. Are there any men left in the Republican Party? Besides Ann Coulter, that is?