Romney to country: Go f*ck yourself!

That is what it comes down to, when a presidential candidate hires people who: insult the president’s competence because he’s black (the aide who confided to British media that Romney could relate to them better than the President of the United States because he gets “Anglo Saxon culture”), a spokesman who finds “shove it” and “kiss my ass” closer to the tip of his tongue than “no comment,” and, now, advisers who say, Oh wow, an actor who has fathered eight children by five different women, even though he’s only been married twice — let’s let him talk right before the candidate is introduced, without even knowing what he’s going to say. Que sera, sera. It’s only a multigazillion dollar campaign. In the Romney campaign, decisions are made, it seems, the same way they might be at a frat party. “Go out and get more beer? Yes, let’s do it.” That’s the amount of thought we’ve seen behind efforts to get this billionaire, who, presumably could afford experienced and diligent help, get elected.

Again. This is the guy who wants the chance to appoint a Secretary of State along with the rest of the cabinet, and at least a few Supreme Court Justices.

And he may pull it off because if you look at the response to the latest episode that in most humble circles would be called an embarrassment, critical thinking was the consistently missing element:

  • The issue most frequently mentioned? “Eastwood, who is 82 . . .” as if that is a commonly accepted expiration date for brains, and as if he was on a day pass from a nursing home. He wasn’t. He took time off from making a movie. He is an actor. Actors are not policy makers, speech writers, historians, public policy experts. They tend to be people with egos that take up a disproportionate amount of the space inside their skulls. That’s why, when people hire actors, they put a piece of paper in their hand and say: “read this.” Not the Romney campaign. No. They said, “whatever.” No reason to find out what this guy, who we were only recently pleasantly surprised to find out endorsed our candidate, plans to say, or how much he knows.
  • “He killed it.” That was the grudging admiration from the hilariously funny (Not) Bill Maher, who tipped his hat to the  . . . What? Humor derives its funniness from truth. The “funny” part, apparently was the idea that the absent Obama would be so lost for words in the face of Eastwood accusing him of STARTING THE WAR IN AFGHANISTAN, that our famously eloquent and collected President would say “fuck yourself.” Twice. To Romney and then to Eastwood. That would have been kind of funny if the brunt of the joke was a different public official, say, Dick Cheney, who said that on the floor of the Senate in response to a policy question.
  • The implied racism of the interrogation in absentia, as a dear friend of mine pointed out, of the “invisible man” this routine reduced a prominent speaker’s view of our President to, the incitement to violence — the “Make my day” quote refers to  . . . oh, right, shooting someone in the face — that was ignored.

And the candidate, who just doesn’t care who says what, who does what to who, what happens, as long as he gets elected   — well, yes, the silver lining to the cloud of frivolous incompetence, arrogance, entitlement, age-ism, racism, irrelevance that was the Eastwood endorsement and response to it — the silver lining was that the candidate, in all of that, he was ignored too.

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