Wow.

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Really, his convention role is unclear? I think it should be very clear: John Edwards may not come within 2,000 miles of the convention. What a skeevy snake. My favorite line in all of this so far came from a Huffington Post commenter: Who says a $400 haircut doesn’t get you chicks? It was the HP that raised some questions about Rielle Hunter in the first place, back in September. Off to Phils game. Scoreboard manana.

The Obama-Che connection?

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Interesting column in the LA TImes about how the artist who created the Obama Hope posters used the famous Che Guevara look from his iconic photograph as his model:
So it shouldn’t be a surprise that L.A. artist Shepard Fairey, in his design for a Sen. Barack Obama poster, looked to Korda’s Che. Fairey’s Obama is not wearing a beret, and he’s looking left instead of right, but his face tilts at the same angle as Che’s. His jaw is set with the same willfulness and strength, and he too is gazing recognizably upward into the future (hasta la victoria siempre . . . ). Obama’s eyes, though, are filled not with righteous anger but with vague and lofty hope.
I have a feeling Parsnip is going to have a field day with this one.
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Michelle Malkin Hit By Train, America Rejoices

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In a rare event that brought all Americans together, Michelle Malkin was hit by a train today. The neocon commentator, who earlier this week said that Dunkin Donuts ads gave comfort to the enemy, was hit by the train only moments after this picture was taken by me.

“I asked her to move a little to the left, a little to the left, a little to the left, and next thing you know, she got hit by that train,” I said. “This has really been a tragic accident. I feel awful. Well, not awful, but I don’t feel good about causing Michelle Malkin to get hit by that fast-moving train. Well, at least I don’t feel GREAT about it.”

Malkin, who is actually an evil racist robot, suffered severe circuitry damage. “We don’t know if we can save her, after she got hit by that train,” said Malkin creator David Duke.

Ticker tape parades were being scheduled in several major cities, with Philadelphia Mayor Michael Nutter proclaiming, “This is a great day for America. It is nice to know that, as of today, there is one less evil racist robot in the world, thanks to that fast-moving train.”

Condolences for the racist, whiny, snivelling, squawking robot were non-existent.

Robert Gates: Appeaser

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A few quick words from Robert Gates, US Secretary of Defense, about Iran the day before Bush made his appeasers remark in Israel:
“We need to figure out a way to develop some leverage . . . and then sit down and talk with them,” Gates said. “If there is going to be a discussion, then they need something, too. We can’t go to a discussion and be completely the demander, with them not feeling that they need anything from us.”

Oops. What he meant to say was, “What’s going to happen if Iran doesn’t do exactly what we say? My prediction: Pain.

An Explosion of Face to Face With Obama! JGT Shakes Hands With The Man.

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So I went down to Pumpkin to grab a chicken salad and while I was waiting, I ventured over to the little thrift store across the street. As I’m flipping through the CDs, a woman wanders in and she and the owner start talking about how they’re expecting Obama at the Philadelphia Tribune in about half an hour. I bought a CD , grabbed my chicken salad and headed home for my camera. I quickly changed shirts (from a Coors Lite shirt into my Phillies T. Oh, like you would have let Obama see you with a Coors Lite shirt on.), grabbed my camera and headed back toward 16th and South. There were cops on the corner, but I just cruised past them and walked down to the Tribune. The staff was all waiting outside (almost all of the men were wearing extremely sharp, colorful suits and looked like old timey newsmen. Very cool.) Apparently they had had to evacuate so the bomb dogs could come through. The ladies were giggling about Obama. A guy wandered over from a nearby construction site and asked me, “Whose heading over here, Obama?” I told him yes and he and I sort of hung out there, the only two non staffers waiting for the candidate. We started talking about the Phillies, and discussed the Santana-Hamels match up on Friday. One of the older Secret Service men wandered over and said, “I think Hamels could turn out to be another Koufax. He’s really something.”
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A police car pulled up, with one of those black cars that the bad guys used in Twister right behind it. Obama stepped out of the bad guy Twister car and called out, “Hey, how’s everybody doing today?” The staff hollered back “Great”, and he said, “Where we headed?” Security pointed to the door, but he said, “Let’s go meet these good people first.” He walked over, and I definitely got a little bit star struck. OK, so a lot starstruck. Probably the most startstruck I’ve been since I saw ?uestlove at Superfresh a couple of years ago. He was shaking hands and he reached back over towards me and said, “How are you?” as he stuck out his hand. I wanted to say something witty and urbane, really leave an impression, you know. So that later, when he was with his wife, he would say, “A guy in a Phillies shirt said the most profound thing today.” However, all I could stumble out was a course, “Fine” and with that he was shaking the next hand. I wandered home. You can see the hand (below) that shook Obamas tonight at the Rendezvous and the Black Sheep. I promise not to wash it beforehand, and I will let you take pictures of it if you’d like. (There’s another photo after the jump.)
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Rocky is Dead

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I held Quizzo Bowl IV at a boxing venue in Philadelphia, and never once, not in the promotional stuff, not on the website, not in the questions, did I invoke the name of Rocky. Why? Because even in that setting, it would have been trite and downright lame. Rocky is done. The city has moved on. I’m no marketing guru, but even I know that trying to win over voters in Philly by tying yourself to Rocky is like trying to win over voters in Kentucky by wearing a coonskin cap and carrying a musket. It’s embarrassing and downright silly. Listen, Hillary, we’re done with Rocky. The only place Rocky lives on is in the Philly Mag’s Writers Handbook (Rule 1-A: You must reference Rocky and cheesesteaks in every single issue.). Wow. Just when I think I can’t possibly like her any less, she trots out this groaner. Anyways, the good news is that Obama is gaining on her in Pennsylvania.