Tag Archives: Ron Paul

Ugarte, Is He Ron Paul?

The political news today for some reason reminds me of this scene from Casablanca.  The conservatives don’t want this outcome, they have their letters of transit, but in the the end are left shouting for help from Rick that never comes.

The snarky German officer must be the GOP establishment. The guy at the end, “I hope you’ll be more helpful,” is the Tea Party.

But for Rick, it’s all over. He won’t be leaving Casablanca. Mitt Romney gets the GOP Party (the beautiful girl who had an affair with Rick) and leaves on the plane for Portugal.  Rick stays behind with Capt. Renault, who must be, I suppose, Tim Pawlenty.

Romney flies off with Ilsa to to Lisbon, where, no doubt, he’ll be slaughtered by Socialists. Obama, you know.

Anyway, it’s a sad day in American politics. The strangest GOP campaign since Sarah Palin tried to pretend she could be Vice President has come to a screeching halt.

I hope that the illness of his young child wasn’t too much of a factor for the former Senator. That, to me, is a poignant note in the whole story, and I hope, along with much of the nation, that little Bella gets healthy.

However, I note that Rick Santorum exited the race at Gettysburg. His rebel Army was up against Romney’s Yankee Hordes, and it looked like the battle was going to get bloody and ugly and Rick’s presidential dreams would expire on the battlefield of Pennsylvania, the same state that pushed him out of the Senate.

Well, to me, Rick Santorum was always a bit of an odd choice. He was an unelectable nominee. He liked to compare himself with Reagan, but Reagan was a warm personality, a cheerleader, a man even his opponents could listen to. He sounded like warm honey or your favorite uncle.

Rick Santorum was Darth Vader or your least favorite high school gym teacher—nasal, tough, manly, a true jerk. Now he’s gone. In a way, I’ll miss him. The Mitt Machine, despite the presences of two non-candidates still in the race, can now focus on Obama.

And Obama can focus on Romney.

In the end, it’s the economy. If it stumbles, Mitt’s got a chance. But last fall, I stated my belief, and events this season so far have not shaken my mind.

Obama will be a two-term president.

And the political circus is going to be less entertaining as the clowns exit the ring.

Rick Santorum

New York Times photo by Jim Wilson shows Rick Santorum in happier days in Ames Iowa during his successful campaign to win the Iowa caucuses. See story here.

And of course, a final Rick tribute:


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What Will Bloom When Mitt Wins? Who Knows?


Crocus on the cusp of blooming in the wood chips at the base of my tree. I'm sure this bud has bloomed since this shot.

I shot these images Tuesday, I think, and they seem pathetically out of date. Daffodils are not just budding anymore, but many clusters are adding splashes of yellow to gardens in Cedar Rapids.

Crocuses are in full bloom. Project beautify the yard was, I think, a smashing success. I worried a bit because when I first stated planting crocus bulbs last fall, I did it one at a time, but quickly grew tired and bored and started planting them in groups. Then I worried that come spring, the odd scattered patches of color would make the yard look like it had some weird sort of crocus mange.

Although I also hoped it would look cool. It’s dangerous for me to pass these judgments, particularly on my own plantings, but I’m gonna come down on the cool side. The flowers look nice.


Daffodil just about to bloom.

Anyway, I shot the flowers Tuesday thinking that I would comment on the southern primaries. So far the mid nation, from Iowa down through Mississippi, is looking like a solid slab of Santorum purple. Yippee. Apparently Midwestern Republicans are way more interested in ideological purity than electoral success, and Mitt’s inevitable ascendance to the GOP crown has been put off a bit.

At least Newt didn’t roar back.

Anyway, Santorum is a bit like the Sarah Palin of 2012, to me. He’s passionately supported by people who seem more than a bit on the fringe. And I find myself barely able to listen. With Sarah, it was her gosh-darn, heard at Wal-Mart folksy Midwestern/Alaska voice forming those rolled weird syllables that never seemed to string together in complete thoughts. With Santorum, it’s his whiny sounding, peevish bluster that seems a bit like a rather nasty gym teacher or unpopular football coach.

Not, I concede, that the sound of politicians voices are fair or important ways to judge the content of what they say. By all accounts I’ve read, Lincoln’s voice was high and rather unpleasant. So it’s not of any great consequence that I always think Rick Santorum is disappointed in my blocking.


Another of the pretty yellow crocuses, this one in the garden.

So, here are some flowers. Out of date, as any analysis I might offer of the Republican race is. I give up.  I don’t know why Newt is still running. I don’t know why anybody would consider voting for Mr. Sweater Vest Crazy Guy. I don’t know why the Romney Robot is both the only likely nominee, but also the man Republicans just can’t bring themselves to embrace. I don’t know why some seemingly bright young people embrace the 18th century ravings of Ron Paul. Dudes, this is the Republican field?

I need to tune out. I think I’ll just go smell some flowers.

Crocus bulb

Crocus that has since bloomed, shown as a bud at the base of a magnolia bush.


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