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Q. Has the issue of Justice Antonin Scalia's replacement on the Supreme Court turned a mite political? A. You could say that. You could also say that flight simulation wind-tunnels are tough on comb-overs.
The great state of Iowa has a history of cultivating its topsoil for a harvest of winners the rest of the country may enjoy. Glenn Miller. Buffalo Bill Cody. George Reeves. Herbert Hoover. James Tiberius Kirk. As a side note, this may be the first time in history the word "enjoy" has been linked to Herbert Hoover.
To taunt his rival and sow seeds of evangelical doubt, Rafael Edward "Ted" Cruz informed Donald Trump that the rest of the country was concerned about his alarming New York Values, totally ignoring the greater danger of the real estate developer's aerodynamic coif toppling over and knocking innocent supporters unconscious with its hard candy shell.
In his last State of the Union Address, that renowned weaver of uplifting platitudes, President Barack Obama, crocheted his constituents one final quilt of bittersweet melancholy to remember him by. Not a victory lap so much as someone pulling his arms inside the chains preparing to dismount a swing over a crocodile pit.
At the beginning of a new year, cultures all over the world traditionally perform peculiar ceremonies meant to wipe the slate clean and start afresh.
It's hard to believe, but we're on the brink of another presidential election year. Let us pray. Every quadrennial, the American political process plays out as a big-top carnival sideshow featuring moral contortionists, ethical geeks and fat sweaty white guys teetering on slack media wires.
It's the most wonderful time of the year. And a large part of what makes it so goldarn fabulous is the festive array of idiosyncratic traditions each family imprints on their holiday gene map like a candy cane tattoo on the soft flesh behind your knee.
Bullies love fear. And once they sniff its smoke, the real pros know how to fuel and exploit it.
Be still your beating hearts, because the agonizing wait is over. Wake the kids. Rake the leaves. Fake speaking in tongues. Yes, it's the most wonderful time of the year, when the eagerly awaited list of Top Ten Comedic News Stories of 2015 is finally, mercifully released. Yoke an ox. Toke some skunk. Poke Uncle Bud to make sure he's still ambulatory.
Get out the big black Sharpie and pull down the official Presidential Campaign Manual because its time to redact the rules. Reality television star Donald Trump has altered the way politics is played to an extent that is game-changing. Judged on a scale of one to ten, think somewhere in the mid five figures.
We've spent such a large portion of the past year cringing at the prospect of potential disasters crouching behind every bush: ISIS, Putin, Trump, Belicheck, lion-killing dentists, that a national holiday right about now is a blessed respite. For one 24-hour period, the whole country can focus on something benign. Unless, you're a Black Friday shopper. But those are self-inflicted injuries.
Prepare for earth-shattering news - immigration has become a key issue in the race for the Republican nomination.
It's like a train wreck. Fascinating, repellant, and loud, all at the same time. Talking about the American presidential sweepstakes.
Q. Isn't Benghazi the guy who used to pal around with John Cassavetes back in the '60s? A. No. That was Ben Gazzara.
If the disappointment of everyone expecting fireworks at the first Democratic debate exhibited itself as perspiration, we could declare the California drought over. A few soggy matches might have been lit but that was it. Heavy on the smoke, non-existent on the flame.
It's been awfully fun to watch the different branches of government quiver like Aspen trees in a force 5 tornado arguing the pros and cons of the Trans Pacific Partnership (TPP) trade pact.
Get this, and get it straight - Gordon Gekko was wrong. Greed is not good. Greed is bad.
To the one thirteenth of all Americans who watched the latest GOP debate, congratulations on surviving the political equivalent of the 24 hours of Le Mans. You just climbed Campaign Everest. Strapped to a pair of debates. Or to be more precise; a pair of mind-numbing, marathon, four and a half hour, endurance-test, butt-fall-asleep debates.
Time to yodel a big old welcome back to the same old grind from our too brief summer respite. And yes, that does include the umpteen-gazillion presidential candidates returning from their home districts with batteries and bank accounts recharged. With an emphasis on the moolah.
It's easy to tell the end of summer the year before a presidential election is nigh, because that bothersome quadrennial buzzing noise is back. And no, we're not talking about candidates riding the Tilt-A-Whirl at the Iowa State Fair after eating pork on a stick.