For Whom The Dumbells Toll

Now that it is obvious our base (Republicans, but not all of them Conservatives) DID come out to vote, it is also as plain as the nose on your face that those moderate, fence-sitting, middle of the roaders were too confused to understand the simple premise that electing cowards to do your fighting is not a wise thing.

"Moderates" excel at hand wringing and little else, are not web-savvy, and believe most of what they see on TV and read in the newspapers. There is little we as bloggers can do to reach these mental dwarves, for as all of the wee-brained folken, they need something bigger than life to grab them by the nape of the neck and point them in the right direction.

In other words, a leader. This is why I've stood nearly stock still as some of my web'n breathren continue to assault the castle. I tire of professing that each of us preach to the same choir, but do understand why this is so. The belief that fighting the good fight is an admirable task, weighs heavily upon their very souls. But listen for a moment, if you'd be so kind...

NOTHING WE DID MADE A LICK OF FUCKING DIFFERENCE.

We didn't draw the attention of the gang that couldn't think straight, and never will. Which is why my search for continuing the prattle has been replaced with seeking a genuine bellweather. A suitable maestro of political mayhem who will rouse the rabble to new heights. Hell, I'd settle for awakening the dolts.

And my thoughts continue to focus upon Rudi. America's Mayor. The hard on crime, but somewhat liberal-leaning Conservative who might be just the ticket to signal all-aboard back to the sanity express.

I know he can speechify. I think he can win. His attention to detail is second to none, but he has strikes against him when it comes to persuading Ma and Pa Kettle. For one, he's of Italian descent, and hell, on Columbus Day, no less an august Conservative personage than Misha referred to old Chris as "that Dago", and this is troublesome. We Conservatives CAN be a rather bigoted lot, and if ever there was a time to cast historical origins aside in favor of backing the right man, it's now, but "that Dago" speaks volumes to the contrary. For two, see #1.

So, is the country ready for him? Hell, the dumbass left is worshipping at the feet of Hussein Obama for chrissake, while we-the-real-people are conjuring stale epithets. Giving Guiliani a half-hearted backing might be worse than none at all. We don't need to confuse the fence sitters with mumbled vitriol, because these folk need it in black and white and red all over to make up their minds.

Guiliani can win. He's probably the best man for the job. The women will look past his thinning hair and into his fiery soul, so they'll be aboard the Rudi train. But what of Texas, and Arizona, and, well, you know, the wild-wild west?

It'd be a shame for the man to put it all on the line only to have his enemies emboldened by stinging aphorisms straight from the mouths of our knaves.

But until someone else comes along to hoist the flag even higher, THAT Dago is the best shot we've got.