‘In his convention speech about his second term, Obama could promise to govern like the Green Party, like a Democrat, or like a Republican; I’d sure like the Republican best.’
Long-form column, The Elevator Speech, if you must.
‘Shorter’ concept pioneered by Daniel Davies and institutionalized by Elton Beard.
Greg Knauss describes his son’s $23,800 bug bite, and why Obamacare (and thus this coming election) is important.
This is how medicine is supposed to work. Everybody has been kind and patient and our stay has been nothing but reassuring and comfortable. Alerts were raised when they should have been, and professionals acted accordingly. Score one for the American medical establishment.
The bill is $23,800.
I’ll have to have to pay less than 6% of that, because I’m lucky enough to still have insurance.
Two years ago, the company I worked for up and skedaddled — that’s how you say it, right? — to Texas, for a “better business environment” than you can apparently find in California. I think that means that the CEO doesn’t have to pay state taxes and is allowed to hunt low-level employees for sport. I’ve been working as an independent contractor since — and having a good time doing it — but I haven’t been able to find private insurance. Everybody loves the small businessman, the fabled self-sufficient entrepreneur, unless he’s got a history of kidney stones and a ruptured disc and, delicately put, a “problematic height/weight ratio.” They didn’t say which way it was problematic, but I think it’s insurance industry jargon for “Tubby McLardass.”
But California — in an effort, no doubt, to discourage business — lets former employes extend their COBRA coverage for an additional 18 months after the federal limit runs out. I’m paying the full premium, but I and my family have insurance.
It’s good, I suppose, to be reminded that although President Obama has been so disappointing in so many things I care about — torture, drone killings, Guantanamo, stimulus, bank fraud, immigration (until election pressure got to him) — things could be even worse.
But the Republican convention just finished up, and tens of thousands of people gathered in Tampa to cheer every mention of reversing the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act. The PPACA is how literally tens of millions of Americans can avoid having a bug bite wipe them out financially.
Uniformed troops are out of Iraq, although that has at least as much to do with the Iraqis kicking us out as it does with the Administration’s determination to leave. We did get almost a quarter loaf on health care, and the cause of gay rights has advanced.
Spotted via rc3.
It pains me to link to link to this guy, but “The Real Romney” is very funny. Do not read while drinking coffee. Yes, you might call parts of it sophomoric, but I think a good part of the humor is surprise — this is by conservative apologist and spinner David Brooks.
It begins:
Mitt Romney was born on March 12, 1947, in Ohio, Florida, Michigan, Virginia and several other swing states. He emerged, hair first, believing in America, and especially its national parks. He was given the name Mitt, after the Roman god of mutual funds, and launched into the world with the lofty expectation that he would someday become the Arrow shirt man.
Romney was a precocious and gifted child. He uttered his first words (“I like to fire people”) at age 14 months, made his first gaffe at 15 months and purchased his first nursery school at 24 months. The school, highly leveraged, went under, but Romney made 24 million Jujubes on the deal.
Mitt grew up in a modest family. His father had an auto body shop called the American Motors Corporation, and his mother owned a small piece of land, Brazil. He had several boyhood friends, many of whom owned Nascar franchises, and excelled at school, where his fourth-grade project, “Inspiring Actuaries I Have Known,” was widely admired.
And it gets better.
(We didn’t get our paper today, so this is via Bark Bark Woof Woof.)
I haven’t been tempted to give the Obama campaign any money this year; my mite seems better directed to House and Senate campaigns. But I have to admit that I like the look of this button lampooning the birthers, and am awful tempted to buy one. Or several. Or maybe the bumper sticker.
Spotted via Obama provides birth certificate — on a button.
Just in time for the GOP’s Tampa convention: Don’t Roof Rack Me, Bro! by Devo.
Rolling Stone reports that the band claims, unconvincingly, that it’s not a partisan song, just a statement of the animal-lover perspective.
“This isn’t a red-state thing or Devo stumping for Obama,” [Devo’s Jerry Casale] says. “But I think any animal lover that hears the story will learn so much about the character flaw of Romney. It’s just a deal-breaker about the man. My God, the world is a scary place with seven billion people. What you want in a leader is a guy with some humanity at his core. I just don’t feel that Mitt does.”
Whatever it may be, it’s not the greatest song in history either, but I can see it becoming a catch phrase.
Jotwell Blenderlaw