Wednesday, May 25, 2005


Well well well local columnist Nick Coleman has delivered, just one day after my lament, but few bloggers have yet waded in to enjoy the fisking. The water looks fine so I'll dive right in.

Nick C. is outraged by the fact that our Republican Governor had the audicity to host "the right-wing blog fraternity" at a reception last week. How shockingly ... political ... of him. Let's all jump up and down and scream together. There. Now we all feel ever so much better.

The stated purpose for the shindig was to meet the "new media." But the very term gives our hero stomach cramps. After all, bloggers are just dumb journalist wannabes who became "awestruck" by their brush with greatness. Some advice for them (us?) from the old hack seasoned columnist:
If bloggers were smart, they'd stay away [from the corridors of power] too [as Nick C. has ... at least since his last invite by Gov. Perpich]"
Sounds a wee bit like a threat to me ...

The columnist seems especially put off by the alarming musing of one unamed blogger:
If our governor decides to give national politics a whirl in 2008, his respect for the new media might mean access to the White House and the corridors of power for the new media as well.
Psst! The blogger in question, Captain Ed of Captain's Quarters, was a credentialled blogger at the Republican National Convention. But perhaps this fact is not well known... After all, Nick C. derisively calls this possibility a "dream:"
A few slices of leftover luncheon cheese, a glass of cheap wine, a picture of you standing next to greatness, and you begin to dream of going to the White House Christmas Party in 2009.
If the bash was the metaphorical christening party for Governor Pawlenty's presidential aspirations, with each blogger giving gifts of beauty, wit, grace, and musical talents (well maybe not musical talents), what does that make Nick, who writes ominously:
That creepy mansion puts a hex on people.
Spitbull's advice to the Governor: avoid all spinning wheels on your twenty-first birthday.

UPDATE: The Warrior Monk says it's the sixteenth birthday that is dangerous in the traditional fairy tale, not the twenty-first. How could I not know that? What kind of mother am I anyway? One that worries more about my kids becoming eligible to drink than eligible to spin wheels and prick their fingers, I guess.


Thanks for linking that column. I haven't had this much blog fun in a long time.

By Blogger Cameron, at 2:00 PM  

Im shocked, shocked I say, what an outrage!

How dare he!

By Anonymous Wayne M, at 10:42 AM  

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