Candy Crowley Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things.

It’s a political chestnut as old as democracy itself and it goes something like this:

“In any debate, the moderator is the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End and the decider of all elections.  Always.”

Looking back on history it is is inarguable that moderators have played the biggest role (even biggester than the candidates themselves) in every presidential election since moderator Aaron Burr shot a particularly taciturn Alexander Hamilton for repeatedly going over his time allotment in the 1804 presidential debates.  Or in 1948, when Strom Thurmond’s flipped the election to Truman after challenger Thomas Dewey made unflattering comments regarding Strom’s recent sarcophagus purchase.

Thus it should come as no surprise when Romney loses by 20 or 30 points come November 7th.  You all saw that shit go down yesterday.  Candy Crowley basically crowned Obama’s ass.  In light of the moderator’s near electoral omnipotence, Romney should be happy to have escaped with his life.

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And we let him off the hook!

Listening to leaked videotape of Willard letting his Republican freak flag fly at a private fundraiser this last May I could think of only one thing: former Vikings and Cardinals coach Dennis Green.

Much hay is being made of this hour-long Freudian penis but this is no extended slip of tongue nor is it the earnest pandering that comprises much of Romboid’s campaign.

This is R-Money Stripped.  None of this is a surprise.  The surprise is how honest he’s been about who he is and how much we’ve ignored it.

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Missouri representative Todd Akin has some unorthodox views on insemination.

I’m sitting here refreshing the front page of Google News waiting for the inevitable.  C’mon Todd.  Say uncle.  Say it!  Say it!  You don’t really think you’ll come back from this do you?  You used to be leading by 11 points.  Now it’s statistically insignificant.  Your party has left you out to dry financially.  The only one defending you is religious butt-nut Kirk Cameron.  Oh and this lunatic.

In case you haven’t heard what representative Todd “Now I’m no doctor” Akin (R-Mo, a moment while you pick yourself up on the ground) said on Sunday to the fairly routine journalistic inquiry of whether he could support abortion in the case of rape.  Here it is according to the San Francisco Chronicle:

“From what I understand from doctors, that’s really rare. If it’s a legitimate rape, the female body has ways to try and shut that whole thing down.”

Let’s let Todd Akin break it down for you plebes as best as he knows how from what he understands as far as he’s been told as it relates to such things.

In song.

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You thought I was going to say Benjamin Franklin but he wasn't a president. Plus he totally killed it...at science! Boo-yah!

In case you haven’t been paying attention to week 3,000,000 of the 2012 presidential campaign (and you shouldn’t–hell I’m only paying attention because I’m unemployed and I like to be irritated) this week’s big kerfuffle stems from an attack ad that pro-Obama Super PAC Priorities USA began running that implies Romney is indirectly responsible for the cancer death of a laid off steelworker‘s wife.

First off, if you are making political decisions based on television or radio commercials, I want you to mark November 14th on your calender.  That’s the big day to have your voice heard in the most important election in the history of the universe EVAR.

Second, the GOP is completely and totally above misleading campaign commercials except when they aren’t.

Third, basically Mitt Romney killed some poor steelworker’s wife in Missouri.

Oh man, that joke kills me. Anywho, fuck poor people.

Which would make him the least killingest (don’t worry, it’s a word.  No, don’t Google it.  Trust me for once.) president ever if that’s the only innocent he takes out.

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We’ve talked about the Texas Sharpshooter fallacy before here at SA (and by “we” I mean “I” and by “about” I mean “talked at you”).  You remember, the time when award-winning children’s author Jack Gantos and I were cosmically intertwined for one brief day?  You remember, right?  No?

To hell with ya.

Anyway I had another experience like this today at In-N-Out.  And no I don’t have any tips for them.  They run a tight paper-hatted, novelty safety-pinned ship over there.

I’m here to tell you about a man who asked for a fork and knife at In-N-Out and what that means about the President of the United States.

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