Ah yum, the familiar taste of egg on our faces. Too bad I don’t care for eggs, but to be a resident of Illinois, you’d better learn to love that chicken born protein, because as long as you are a voting adult of this State, one humiliation after another is to be your lot.
It almost seems like a farway dream that a man named Obama: classy, intelligent, thoughtful and competent, could have ascended the ranks of the political mire we crawl through in the Land of Lincoln. But it did happen, a once in a lifetime gift, and enjoy it folks, because it looks more and more like that’s all we’re going to get.
Because no sooner did the primary polls close last Tuesday night, then we found ourselves in familiar territory:
http://www.suntimes.com/news/elections/2036963,CST-NWS-cohen09.article
A pawnbroker, a repeated domestic violence offender, consorter of admitted prostitutes and SuperBowl party killjoy (did you SEE that mess as he withdrew from the Lt. Governor’s race in a teary press conference, in the middle of a pub, as innocent people attempted to watch the Saints march to victory?) I would ask, fair citizens, what we have done to deserve this nightmare, except we, or at least the Democratic ilk of us, actually voted for this loser. Let this be a cautionary tale to those who think their vote couldn’t possibly matter. When you achieve a paltry 25% turnout, you get Joey Buttafucco as your candidate.
I didn’t vote for Cohen, but no matter. I am again ruined through guilt by association. And now that Cohen has quietly (ha!) exited the race, where do we go from here? Are there any good choices? It seems some would like Dan Hynes, the Democrat who just lost the nomination for Governor to incumbent Pat Quinn, to step forward. But surprise, surprise, he seems a little reluctant to fill the shoes of a man who will let his morbidly obese son weep with heartbreak next to him on national TV.
http://blogs.suntimes.com/sweet/2010/02/hynes_not_interested_in_illino.html
Between this crap and the blizzard, I need a drink already. It’s gotta be noon somewhere…
becky sarwate 