Gotta feel sorry for Mitt Romney, who, even with all his millions, can't buy friends. He's got nice hair, he's a pretty good simulacrum of a generically handsome boring upper class twit, but he's utterly devoid of charisma. If the day came when he felt a natural emotion, he'd get such a shock he'd probably jump in the ocean. The funny thing about Romney the Faux Man is that he's such a priggish, emotionless stiff that his ill-advised attempts at folksiness crash to earth like a lead zeppelin (and not the good kind). All of his efforts to avoid seeming aloof and contemptous merely serve to make him seem clueless and moronic. Shit, the guy can't even suck up to a crowd correctly. Here he is, blathering the sort of platitudes that he could have picked up from briefly scanning a guidebook:
I'm reminded of a conversation, in which a girl I marginally knew found out that a guy was from St. Louis, and she immediately piped up, "St. Louis? Great barbecue!" For some reason, it sounded like such a canned response that my college roommate was doubled up with laughter. If the guy had been from New Orleans, she would've said, "Love those crawdads!" Mitt would probably have thought that a bon mot, and filed it away for future use. At least Mitt's catalogue of likes has improved in the past few months:
Romney's stupid speech reminded some wags of a movie that I've never seen (Will Ferrell kinda creeps me out):
Me? I was reminded of one of the worst songs ever written, a parody of an even worse song:
At least Mitt likes things... his primary opponent (WARNING: It's that link) hates things... hell, he even hates the Dutch:
Funny, the Netherlands must have changed a hell of a lot since last I've been there... could it be that the little cafe by the harbor is now Death Panel Central?