For all the kerfuffle and snafus currently circling around The New Yorker’s questionable cover depicting the Obamas as America-hating, gun-toting, turban-wearing nogoodknicks, the actual article that serves as the impetus for the cover is pretty darn good, and a great insight into how Barack Obama, an Illinois state senator just a handful of years ago, is poised to become the next President of the United States.

Make no mistake about it, he didn’t reach this point by giving exquisite back rubs and noticing constituents’ new haircuts; the man is a politician, and he plays the game very well.

But if you’re interested enough in the election to recognize that the inflammatory cover is meant as satire (its efficacy at that point notwithstanding), I’d recommend you take a gander at this lengthy article.

The Political Scene: Making It: Reporting & Essays: The New Yorker

If you caught the Miss Universe pageant last night, you probably got a seriously case of deja vu.  I know what you’re thinking:  an annual pageant that involves tall, skinny women with bleached teeth wandering about in ballgowns and swimsuits while talking so much about how much they love great things, what possible avenue for repetition could there be?

But you’d be wrong (as usual):  for the second consecutive year, Miss USA, despite having the backing of the world’s lone superpower in all her walking endeavors, totally ate it when trying to strut during the ballgown portion of the competition.

It’s the typical fast-lane, VH1 “Behind the Music” type story; this young upstart beauty queen, who once started with just a handful of sequins and a one-piece (one-piece!) bathing suit, finds herself cavorting with the most unique and talented similarly inoffensively attractive women from around the globe at the Miss Universe pageant.  But, in her rapid ascendence to the worldwide stage, she forgets her roots, including that no matter how smiley she is, there’s no replacement for some good old-fashioned blue-collar John Cougar Mellencamp walking.  She comes out on the stage for the ballgown competition, full of moxie and hairspray, and then when it all came crashing down.

As I stumble out of the shower this morning, I flip on The Today Show, that delightful combination of hard-hitting news, stories about how to reduce your cankles, and Willard Scott praising geriatrics for not dying yet (sponsored by Smucker’s: With a name like Smucker’s, it has to be good. Smucker’s.).

Right at the top of the 7:00 hour, they’re talking about this cover of The New Yorker, highlighting the lengthy feature they have on Barack Obama in the most recent issue. The only problem is that the cover paints Obama and his wife as terrorists who will pound their fists all the way to the creation of an Islamo-fundamentalist state.

The magazine says that the cover is meant to be ironic; a direct portrayal of the insinuiations made via whisper campaigns from the right (right direction, not as a manner of correctness) side of the political spectrum. I’m willing to believe the magazine, because it’s The New Yorker. Not because the magazine should be heralded as some infallible fountain of insight and commentary, but rather because The New Yorker is a few hundred notches above the mass e-mail your local gun club president would send out; the first publication that would potentially paint this portrait of the Obamas without its tongue impaling its cheek.

Of course, the problem now lies in the fact that the story is getting national exposure, and the cover, which I am willing to bet most New Yorker readers would recognize as satire, is being plastered over the airwaves, beamed into the homes of the millions of Americans who have not heard of the publication and its rhetorical history, and instead are tuning into their morning news programs to get the latest news on Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie’s twins, who are the most important babies ever born, because they are no doubt very attractive.

I guess the final takeaway from this whole matter is: The New Yorker was not offensive in putting together the cover, but when its context was removed from the intended audience who would “get” the gesture, it became a whole new animal.

Gothamist: New Yorker Obama Cover: Ironic or Offensive?

In the latest political/election story that is not technically about politics or the election, Jesse Jackson was not aware that his microphone was live for an interview when he muttered to his fellow interviewee that Obama was “talking down to black people” and wanted to “cut his nuts off.”

At least, I think he said, “cut his nuts off,” but I can’t be sure, because FOX News, who got a hold of the footage, decided that our ears were too sensitive to hear the single phrase they pimped relentlessly that we’d want to hear.

That footage was taped Saturday, but only aired yesterday, which means that FOX News execs likely spent the last few days thinking long and hard about airing the footage, and whether or not it was truly newsworthy and legitimate enough to merit nationwide coverage.  Or they just managed to stop giggling a few hours ago.

Upon hearing that he had been caught making asalty comments on air, and upon discovering that the network planned to air the footage in its prime time slot, Jackson patted himself down for microphones, then responded, “You gotta be f*cking kiddnig me.”

As with most of this stories, it is not believed that it will have any lasting ramifications on the race for the Presidency, as most Americans have yet to discover that an election is forthcoming.

You know, I flew Spirit Airlines a couple of weeks ago, and if I was aware of this customer outreach feature at the time, I probably would have taken advantage of it.

Because if I’m going to be screwed long and hard by an airline, I at least want to know what they’re wearing when they’re doing it.

Consumerist: Spirit Airlines Customer Service Number Leads To Phone Sex Line

With today’s primaries in South Dakota and Montana, whose major contributions to American society usually consist of motorcycle rallies, gigantic heads, and a significantly larger sky than usual, the Bataan-esque march to the White House for the Democrats is beginning to think about seeing the beginning of the end.

Let’s look back:

Feeling a little down, now that you have to trudge your way back to to crack of the whip that is dutiful employment?  Still entertaining fantasies of quitting your job and establishing your own line of artisan barbecue sauces, instead of pushing or otherwise physically manipulating paper, or perhaps, pencils?

I know just the thing to get your out of those dreary “This Whole Work Thing Is Not As Fun As I Remember” Blues:

On Saturday afternoon on the Mall, passersby watched as a mother duck and her offspring paddled in a series of man-made pools outside the National Museum of the American Indian. The five ducklings died when they were pulled into a drain, even as guards and maintenance workers rushed to save them.

Happy Tuesday that feels even worse than a Monday, everybody!

You know, nothing says “luxury Caribbean resort vacation” like “indie teenage pregnancy.”

Check this out.

Then check this out.

Be sure to put on some lotion, Home Skillet.  No, not “motion lotion,” suntan lotion, to prevent skin cancer.  For crying out loud, you’re a mother.  Act like it.

I just learned that Chili’s offers a “Bottomless Express” lunch.  That doesn’t make sense, right?  Unless I’m willing to believe that there are professionals out there who really are looking for an opportunity to hurl themselves into a wacky-fun dining environment and shovel their face to capacity for a reasonable price before sprinting back to their job that has a title that technically doesn’t impart any information (systems analyst, dynamics manager, paradigm officer).

This inexpensive family meal is a paradox.

I also have no idea what “pepper in some fun” means.

Interesting story in The Washington Post today about the racism some Obama campaign volunteers have faced while trying to get the word out about the Hopesmith. I’ve read more than enough stories at this point where the reporter quotes some uneducated “blue-collar” voter who refuses to vote for Obama because he is a radical Muslim black liberation theologist who will ban flags and swear his Presidential oath on a stack of your confiscated guns, but the shock and awe of it the overwhelming and willful ignorance never abates. Here’s some highlights from this story:

One caller, Switzer remembers, said he couldn’t possibly vote for Obama and concluded: “Hang that darky from a tree!”

…

In a letter to the editor published in a local paper, Tunkhannock
Borough Mayor Norm Ball explained his support of Hillary Clinton this
way: “Barack Hussein Obama and all of his talk will do nothing for our
country. There is so much that people don’t know about his upbringing
in the Muslim world. His stepfather was a radical Muslim and the
ranting of his minister against the white America, you can’t convince
me that some of that didn’t rub off on him.

…

According to Seifert, the woman pointed to Obama’s face on Seifert’s
T-shirt and said: “He’s a half-breed and he’s a Muslim. How can you
trust that?”

Racist Incidents Give Some Obama Campaigners Pause - washingtonpost.com