"Life moves pretty fast. You don't stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it." - Ferris Bueller

Tuesday, January 20, 2004
On a good old fashioned Iowa Ass Whuppin’:

I’m not from Iowa. I have been there once, to pay respects to long dead ancestors. My grandfather’s family worked that land for many generations, so I guess you can say my ancestral root go deep in the Iowa cornfields. The Hawkeyes are a very unique bunch. Even two years of Dean foolery couldn’t win them over.

Howie got his ass handed to him yesterday. It shocked him, as I’m sure it shocked most people who follow this stuff. Howie didn’t take it very well. As a matter of fact, he about had an apoplectic aneurism in what was supposed to be a concession speech. Drudge links to the audio here.

How a man handles defeat tells volumes about what he’s made of. Dean’s temper and his inability to cope with the political barbs that will only get worse as the campaign drags on through November have told more than volumes about what he’s made of. Not that John Kerry is a better candidate than Howie. Until last week, Kerry couldn’t even identify Iowa on a map. Kerry won Iowa because there was no box for ‘none of the above’. That goes for John “Loreal – Because I’m worth it” Edwards as well.

Howie has the money, but unless he completes a Hail Mary in New Hampshire he’s toast. Clark doesn’t have the money, and even if he did, he’d have to take both feet out of his mouth to say something intelligible. Kerry doesn’t have the money, and looks too old and French anyway. Edwards – hell, he can’t even hold his home state’s support for long. Never mind mentioning the fact he’s a blood sucking trial lawyer.

My sophomore year in high school, the basketball team took the state championship with a perfect 24-0 record. The team was good. As the season wore on, it became evident none of our opponents had what it took to beat us. We, those in the crowd and band, would pretend to read newspapers while the other team was being introduced. In the fourth quarter, when the game was sufficiently on ice, a chant would begin in a corner of the bleachers and grow until it reached a deafening pitch.

It just doesn’t matter. It just doesn’t matter. It just doesn’t matter.

Yes, we were arrogant. We were bragging. We were insulting the opposing team and crowd. In the end it really didn’t matter. We won.

That, I believe, is the fate of whatever democratic candidate manages to emerge from this bloody, vicious, and hate-filled primary contest. None of them have the stature to challenge W. They offer no real alternative except a return to high taxes, inept foreign policy, and paper tiger security at home and abroad.

That, friends and lovers, is the truth. Sorry if it offends you – it was meant to do just that.

So, in the end, no matter who emerges from the primary system –

It just doesn’t matter.

Here endeth the lesson.

PS - Note to Dick Gephardt - How's Iowa for a bad roll of "Life's Lottery" ?

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