The Corner

If You Can’t Fake Sincerity . . .

. . . then you’re in trouble. Because just when you wingnuts think it’s safe to warm to Mitt Romney — and we men of the Left are not as impressed as you seem to be by his less-than-50-percent win in Florida; the not-Romneys are still beating him, but at least he got over 30 percent! — he goes and opens his mouth, and out comes his patrician “not concerned about the very poor” remark.

I bet he’s not! After all, if you and a few buddies with names like T. Coleman Andrews III made pots of dough by starting up a venture-capital firm with other people’s moolah and then spent the rest of your life living off the “carried interest” proceeds at a low, low, low tax rate of 15 percent, upgrading your $12 million vacation home in the ritzy San Diego suburb of La Jolla and running for president because you can’t get elected to any other office, you wouldn’t be either. 

Okay, so maybe he didn’t mean it quite the way we’re going to use it against him in the fall campaign if you folks insist on nominating this year’s version of John McCain minus the war record. But the anti-Empath still hasn’t figured out that you can’t hand us brass-knuckle sound bites and then expect us not to use them. It’s as if the software upgrade (Mean Mitt v. 1.2) didn’t quite get all the bugs worked out in the campaign’s haste to get tough with SpongeBob SquarePants. Gotta fine-tune this Stepford-candidate thing, especially if you’re going to run him against our never-ever-to-be-vetted Manchurian candidate.

Come on guys, you’ve got to make it a little harder for us than this. Gaia knows we like a sure thing as much as the next criminal organization masquerading as a political party, but even we need a real fight every now and then, just to keep us sharp. And from the looks of things, you’re bound and determined not to give us one — which is one of the reasons we keep inviting your “GOP Establishment” to our Manhattan and Georgetown cocktail parties. Who doesn’t love a lovable loser?  

Hey, Speaker Boehner, have another beer! Just don’t cry into it.

Sure the polls show that everybody hates Barry, that he’s fading in the swing states, and that only somebody who gets to host a show on MSNBC that nobody but me watches still believes in the myth of the Emperor Hussein’s golden-throated invincibility. But this one thing I know is true: Say what you will about BHO II, but when the Party of Take becomes bigger than the Party of Give, it’s game over for you suckers.

So go ahead and nominate Mitt — please! Nominate the guy who “likes to fire people” and “isn’t worried” about the very poor. Nominate the guy who will stammer and stutter in the debates against BO2, who won’t have a good answer for any question involving his money and — like almost every Republican — will be unable and unwilling to defend himself when the blows start raining down, and he’s trapped in his corner, and even though his team has thrown in the towel the media — oops! I mean the ref! — won’t notice because, after all, he’s on our payroll.

In the Fight of the Century between the Apologetic Oligarch and the Tribune of the Folks, who do you think the fans will be rooting for? Time to call my bookie.

Michael Walsh has written for National Review both under his own name and the name of David Kahane, a fictional persona described as “a Hollywood liberal who has a habit of sharing way too much about the rules by which [liberals] live.”
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