Land, Ho!

Terri Lynn Land's Senate Quest is Emblematic of What's Wrong with the GOP...


What, exactly, is the compelling reason that Terry Lynn Land should be a senator?

More presicely, why should she be MY senator? In a nation with 310 million souls, she’s among the best we can find, eh?

Alright, she has a “musical name”– at least, that’s George Will’s Aristotelian pronouncement. Granted, her name is better in that department than,  say,  Mike Cox or Dick DeVos and Dick Chrysler and Dick Posthumous and Dick Headlee. What is it about Michigan Republican Party and it’s attraction to candidates that borrow heavily from an assorted pool of men whose names are unflattering sobriquets for male unmentionables?

So, yes, Land has a nice name. Certainly better, too, than Stabenow. Stab ’em later, I say.

Yes, for eight years, Land was (yawn) Michigan  Secretary of State– you know, that bureaucratic purgatory which is always a source of constant harassment and torment no matter which political party is running the place?  Other than that, Terri Lynn Land is a millionaire many times over, and seems a nice enough lady. She’s a mom, a wife, a college grad. All good. But…

Michigan has had some 41 senators since it became a state in 1837. That’s it: 41.

Of course, we’ve been saddled with one of these 41 luminaries since 1978; the absolutely loathsome Carl Levin– in whose office you will likely find love letter to Lois Lerner when they fumigate the place next January.

Strictly speaking, though, we’ve had some fairly leading political lights and statesmen from both parties representing our interests in Washington:  From Lewis Cass (who was rather instrumental in lighting a spark to the Civil War) to Arthur H. Vandenberg (who held out stubbornly against intervention in what became World War Two) to Prentiss Brown (who was pivotal in getting the Mackinac Bridge built), we’ve had some Senators with vision and political courage.

People, that is, of conviction and vision and substance.

So far, though, in the year of the RePablum-con Party, where (pace Henry Ford) you can have any color Republican you want, as long as it’s beige, Mz. Land has given me no reason to vote for her –I mean, other than she isn’t a radical leftist like Barack Obama. Zippo. Zero.

Oh, sure, the few broadcast television commercials I’ve witnessed featuring her opponent Gary (yup) Peters have certainly given me a few reasons to vote against him. But so far, though, none have persuaded me to vote FOR Mz. Land.

I get myself to the grocery store; The product must be compelling, though, for me to pick it up and purchase it.

She and her team could start by having some principles, some convictions, some, some,  zeal to roll back the sharpened-fang maw of the monstrous Federal Government. No talk of repealing Obamacare. No talk of hard-nosed investigations into the Obama scandals, which are real and serious and legion. So far? Only soft-focus poll-tested Liebfraumilch.

I’m really, really tired of this cut-n-paste Republican Woman Candidate, who has red, white and blue yard signs that smartly match her light-blue oxford button-down blouse and dark navy sport-coat and (sorta) feminine dangley earrings… now starring in her own series of little commercials with the camera set at the Andrew Wyeth horizon line, making her appear earnest in her safety goggles while she chats with a half dozen racially-mixed men in hard-hats while gently slapping her fist and they all nod at her brilliance– which we can’t hear because the voice-over tells us about Terri Lynn Land’s Bold Program to cure cancer, fight crime, and remove unwanted hair. We then see the Republican Woman Candidate as she walks through  a corn field, and then as she observes  a robotic wire-welder magically make automobiles, and finally relax with her family around a bowl of popcorn and a movie on the 52″ plasma.

Cue the disclaimer!

Lord, I’m sick of the high-concept, low-information carnival…

If this is the kind of campaign –not to mention candidate– the Republican Senatorial Campaign Committee thinks is going to mop up Harry Reid come early November, they are in for a roundhouse punch to the gut: For the first time in my life —and I mean this with all my breaking heart—  I have no interest in the upcoming election– and I should be a whirling dervish in anticipation of seeing Carl Levin’s stupid granny glasses retired from the scene. Instead of a burning political passion, I have ennui…

I’ll see if I have my firewood stacked that evening, or if the Tigers aren’t in the Series– maybe I’ll amble down the the Township Hall and vote that Tuesday. Maybe. If I remember. Unless there’s a particularly bracing rerun of MASH on that night…

…And I’ve voted in almost every election –federal, state, local, school board, special millage, everything– since I was old enough in 1982. But, Bitch McConnell and his Monty Python-esque band of Merry Men have so thoroughly disgusted me with their sleaze,  opportunism, and lack of ethics, leadership, and discernible principles, that I am actually repulsed at the thought of giving his tactics the patina of authenticity by casting a vote for his Republican Party.

Let alone help Get Out the Vote.

I know, I could vote for the Libertarian, or the Natural Law guy, or what-have-you. I could also have Pope Francis issue a Papal Bull against the Hale-Bop Comet– they would both have the equivalent effect.

Sorry, RNSCC– You lost me (at least, so far). I hope you can pick up an Hispanic divorced soccer mom somewhere (that seems to be whom you are aiming at) who will have my former enthusiasm. And who will remember to vote.

Land Ho!

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