One Shining Moment

You know how modern political debates work: they aren't about scoring technical points like debating was about in high school, but getting your opponent to make that elusive but rabidly sought-after self-immolating gaffe that dooms his/her campaign for good.  It's why challengers always seek as many head-to-head encounters as possible and incumbents either (depending on the state of their campaigns) disdain or duck them.

Connecticut Attorney-General "Hanoi Dick" Blumenthal, the de facto incumbent in the Connecticut Senate race, must have been in a generous mood last night, because he walked right into Republican rival Linda McMahon's Stone Cold Stunner on job creation:

It was a trick question, of course.  Blumie has been in the public sector his entire misbegotten life.  You'd have better luck asking him how to make a hydrogen bomb in your basement.  His "job" is DESTROYING real jobs, not creating them.  You might as well ask an abortician how to resuscitate his dumpster contents.  It never occurs to him.

Which is why "creative policies" belongs in the gaffe hall of fame beside "Poland isn't in the Warsaw Pact".  The past twenty months have witnessed the ram-down of all kinds of "creative policies" ostensibly for the purpose of "job creation" (and salvation!).  It's clear for all to see the dazzling economic success all that frakking "creativity" has enjoyed.  That and three borrowed bucks will buy you a flat latte at Starbucks to sip while you stand in line at the unemployment office.

That was the moment when Mrs. McMahon laid the smack down on "Hanoi Dick's" candy ass.  But was it a game-changer?  LauraW says no; Ace says yes.  I'll say this: It SHOULD win the race for Vince's wife.  But this is Connecticut we're talking about; for Terminator Salvation marks, think "Skynet Central".  Swatting a capitalist homer off an Obamunist pitcher when you start the game spotting ten runs isn't the election clincher it would be most anywhere else.

Think the old Four Horsemen's multiple beatdowns of Dusty Rhodes in the Jim Crockett-run NWA in the mid '80s.  It's a sheer numbers game where the babyface is always fighting uphill.

UPDATE: Told you so.