Private-sector experience? Oh, no!

Private-sector experience? Oh, no!

People have started to learn some disturbing facts about likely Republican presidential nominee Mitt Romney: He once worked for Bain Capital — which is what’s known as a private-sector business. Harmless as the term sounds, it’s much scarier once you understand how such outfits operate.

A private-sector business doesn’t even pretend to make decisions based on how to best help people or what creates the most jobs or even on what will most equally distribute income. It makes decisions based only on what creates a profit.

Yes, it’s frightening to think that something so mercenary even exists — even worse that someone who worked for something like that could actually become president. Of course, the only people who should lead our country and manage our economy are those who remain unsullied by the private sector’s for-profit mentality: career politicians.

Read the whole thing. Once again, Frank Fleming hits the nail on the head.

Santa Claus Arrested Following Joint Investigation by IRS, INS, and FWS

Satire? Santa Claus arrested following a joint investigation by the IRS, INS, and FWS.

The United States Department of Immigration and the Internal Revenue Service have also had their eyes on Mr. Claus. An immigration official who also attended the raid said that they were able to obtain several dozen passports. He said, “It seems that this Santa Claus character has a different name in every country–his EU passport says, ‘Father Christmas’ and his Canadian passport says, ‘Père Noël’. We have, however, determined with certainty that Santa Claus is a United States citizen.”

Apparently Claus worked in Hollywood during the 1940s and 50s making autobiographical films, such as Miracle on 34th Street. During that time he applied for and received U.S. citizenship.

Read the whole thing. The scandal is shocking!

Update: In related news, the Occupied Wall Street movement is now targeting Santa as well.

Hey, they still let us drive

Frank Fleming: “Hey, they still let us drive.”

Driving is basically a grandfathered freedom from back when people cared less about pollution and danger and valued progress and liberty over safety. They had different equations related to human life then: We could lose 10,000 men in a single battle in a war and call it a victory.

We’re talking foolhardy people who eventually sent men to the moon strapped to a giant rocket that had less computational power than it takes to calculate the trajectory of an Angry Bird. Their kids dangled from jungle gyms over pavement. [emphasis in original]

Phobos-Grunt: what’s in a name?

Some English commentary from Russia: Phobos-Grunt: what’s in a name?

And this is the part when I point out that Russia’s unmanned Mars missions, which have not been successful so far, have a name problem that goes beyond Phobos-Grunt.

Mars-94? M1 No. 520? Seriously? What is this dour nonsense? Soyuz-Fregat was an improvement, but still, considering the consistent failure rate of the Mars missions, it’s time to get serious about breaking that curse. Take a page out of the Americans’ book, just this once, and inject some optimism into your space program. The Americans give their *successful* spacecraft names like Phoenix! And Spirit! And Opportunity! So name your spacecraft a variation on the word Hope! Throw caution to the wind and name it Kickass! Certainly don’t name it after terror, even if the satellite you plan on exploring is already stuck with that unfortunate name.

The Republican presidential candidate we’ve all been waiting for

The Republican presidential candidate we’ve all been waiting for.

Who, you may ask, is T. Coddington Van Voorhees VII?

Simply put, a man born to the conservative saddle. The only scion of the legendary swashbuckling conservative editor / author / bon vivant T. Coddington Van Voorhees VI, I have since my earliest days honed a conservatism forged in the fires of intellectual combat, stoked by the bellows of classic education, and tempered in the cooling waters of good breeding. Even before matriculating at East Hampton Country Daycare, I was thrust headlong into heady intellectual debates of postwar American politics. Oh, how I cherish those moments, bouncing astride my father’s knee, as he held postprandial court on the patio with Long Island Sound’s most scrupulous Republicans – like Newport GOP chairman Z. Pilastor Fennewick, Greenwich GOP legend Boylston McInernery, and East Hampton’s “hostess with the mostest,” Modesty Crabwater. And although Dad had his differences with each, I admired the elegant grace with which these Republicans could command an Adirondack chair or accept electoral defeat. It is that very same grace I shall endeavor to bring back to the Grand Old Party.

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