Tristero over at Digby’s explains why we shouldn’t be heartened that Bush has the lowest approval rating of any president ever:

Bush At 69% Disapproval. That’s the highest ever disapproval for a president. And 28% approve.

You may think that sounds like very low approval but it’s not. Actually, it’s disturbingly high. Let me explain by way of an example.

You’re driving down a highway, minding your own business. However approximately 28 of every 100 drivers hurtling towards you at 55 to 65 mph plus are so utterly unhinged from reality they actually think Bush is doing a good job. Your life is in their hands..

When you put it that way, yeah, 28% is awfully damned high. And they’re probably the reason Seattle’s smelled a little strange lately. Today’s Seattle Times explains why:

A couple of months ago, the U.S. Border Patrol began occasional “spot checks” of every vehicle and passenger arriving in Anacortes off state ferries, the lifeline between these islands and the mainland.

[snip]

San Juan Islanders are used to customs inspections in Anacortes if they take the ferry that comes from Sidney, B.C. Before now, though, they were never subjected to checks on domestic ferry runs.

That changed in February, when federal agents started corralling everyone off domestic ferries into a fenced-off area in Anacortes and questioning them about their citizenship. It now happens once, maybe twice a week; no one has any way to know if they will be stopped.

No wonder the islanders are bandying about terms like “police state.” No wonder something stinks to high heaven. Let me not put too fine a point on this, my darlings: The United States Border Patrol is now doing border checks on domestic fucking ferries.

Oh, they have sweet things to say, like how they’re protecting us all from the mean nasty terrorists who might sneak in through the San Juans, but you know and I know they’ve dropped a steaming pile of bullshit on us and are now claiming it’s a rose. Let us pause for a moment and remember just how many other Constitutional principles have been eviscerated in the name of “protecting us from terrorists.” Now let us reflect on how totalitarian states are created.

That’s right. Freedoms and rights are gradually eroded in the name of security, and then one day you wake up with a dictator in power and no power to fight back.

In my own fucking city, this happens. Only the 28-percenters would think this is a great idea and a sound use of government power.

At least the ACLU was invited in and is now diligently sniffing. Methinks it’s time to get myself that membership card.

Speaking of totalitarian states, what do the folks at the top got that the folks on the bottom have not? That’s right. Bags and bags of money:

But McCain’s still in touch with the common muck, right? Wrongo:

Standing before a nearly shuttered factory pocked with broken windows, John McCain on Tuesday urged Americans to reject the “siren song of protectionism” and embrace a future of free trade.

He used his own recent political fortunes — a dramatic fade followed by an unexpected comeback to secure the Republican presidential nomination — to illustrate that depressed Rust Belt cities such as Youngstown can have bright futures.

“A person learns along the way that if you hold on — if you don’t quit no matter what the odds — sometimes life will surprise you,” McCain said.

Did the campaign not appreciate how jarring the juxtaposition would be? He’s talking about the benefits of existing trade policy in front of a
factory that’s closing after the implementation of existing trade policy. He’s a multi-millionaire telling factory workers to “hold on” and wait for “surprises,” apparently not aware of the fact that those are the last five employees of a factory that had more than 100 employees a few years ago.

No, CB, the campaign did not appreciate the sheer magnitude of fuckwittery choosing that location displayed, because they are the cream of the 28-percenters, and they share the same deep connection to the common folk that Marie Antoinette did when she said of starving peasants, “Let them eat cake.” She said this not out of petty spite, as is so widely believed, but because in her world, if you ran out of bread, there was always cake available. She could not conceive of a world without cake.

Neither can the 28-percenters.

Today must have been National Retard Day. And I’m just scratching the surface here, my darlings.

Let’s start with a bit o’ my personal history. Way back when I was in high school, full of vim and vigor and needing money in the worst possible way, I got the crazy idea that joining the Army would be a great way to pay for college. That enterprise ended in disillusionment.

Look, you want to keep volunteers, you don’t herd them all together into a depressing building that smells of ancient linoleum and cranky old men. You don’t process them using ancient geezers in godawful-pea-green uniforms that look like they came off the rack at Wal-Mart, mooching about the place with bowed heads and bitter stares. You especially don’t have a Methuselah with skin the texture of a dessicated lizzard performing the physical exams, and you’re really fucking stupid to do all of this where the now-doubtful recruits can see the Navy boys in their sharp so-blue-they’re-almost-black uniforms sailing down the halls with their chins up and the pride billowing out from them like Greek fire. None of us needed the money that badly. And, since we couldn’t switch to the Navy right then and there, we all said “Sod this for a game of larks” and went home.

Good thing, too:

Robert Lopez served 8 years in our military, fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan as a tank commander. He was told he’d get his whole education bill paid for when he got out of the service.

Yeah, they told me the same thing. So how much do they cover?

Whereas veterans used to be able to count on the government to pay for all of their college expenses, troops returning from Iraq and Afghanistan are finding that the GI Bill barely scratches the surface of today’s college costs.

So what this basically means is, I would have served my country, and then come back to find out I’d have to pay for my own damned education, just like Lopez. Not. Fucking. Worth it.

And what’s McCain doing about that, pray tell?

…Senators Jim Webb and Chuck Hagel proposed a new GI Bill, which would bring back WWII-style standards of providing vets with full tuition, room and board. And that is why 51 senators have signed on, including 9 Republicans like John Warner, giving this GI Bill tremendous bi-partisan support.

But it isn’t enough. Faced with unprecedented filibusters, the only way
to ensure Senate passage of the GI Bill is to get 60 cosponsors. So far, John McCain has refused.

Ah. Bugger-all. That’s right. What else did I expect?

Shorter John McCain: “Fuck the troops. Big Daddy Bush don’t want me voting for this, I ain’t gonna.”

And the stupid’s not limited to Republicons today. Oh, hell no. Some Democrats were standing behind the door with their buddies in the Republicon party when the common sense was handed out:

South Jersey Rep. Rob Andrews announced yesterday he will challenge four-term incumbent U.S. Sen. Frank Lautenberg for the Democratic nomination in a primary that is bound to become a battle of the generations.

“The people of the state want a choice and they want a change,” said Andrews, who is 50. Lautenberg is 84 and has represented New Jersey in the U.S. Senate for almost a quarter-century.

[snip]

Lautenberg’s campaign manager, Brendan Gill, said the primary “will be a unique opportunity for Democrats to make a clear choice: Whether to choose Senator Lautenberg, who has consistently stood up to George Bush, or Congressman Andrews, who helped write Bush’s resolution to go to war with Iraq.”

Bravo, sir. That was an excellent response to a total fuckwit. Very politic. I’m sure what you really wanted to say was “Oh, yes, New Jersey’s just been begging for another batshit insane wanna-be Republicon senator.”

Carpetbagger has Andrews’s campaign slogan all ready for him:

Andrews doesn’t even appear to have a rationale for opposing Lautenberg, outside of the fact that Andrews simply wants a promotion to the Senate, and thinks this might be his chance. With Lamont and Edwards, they could go to voters and say, “The incumbent sides with Republicans on issues that matter.” With Andrews, he’s prepared to go to voters and say, “The incumbent is an octogenarian.” (emphasis added)

Yeah. Let’s get those bumper stickers made!

Finally, no trip through the stupid-o-sphere would be really complete without seeing what Karl Rove’s been up to these days. Oh, so he had an interview with GQ, eh? I’ll just bet that was full of substantial and savvy observations:

At one point during the lengthy discussion, Rove explained why he rejects the notion that Republicans will support Obama in fairly large numbers, and actually believes it’s McCain who can win over Dems.

Rove: There are Democrats, particularly blue-collar Democrats, who defect to McCain because they see McCain as a patriotic figure and they see Obama as an elitist who’s looking down is nose at ’em. Which he is. That comment where he said, you know, “After 9/11, I didn’t wear a flag lapel pin because true patriotism consists of speaking out on the issues, not wearing a flag lapel pin”? Well, to a lot of ordinary people, putting that flag lapel pin on is true patriotism. It’s a statement of their patriotic love of the country. And for him to sit there and dismiss it as he did—

GQ: You’re not wearing a flag pin, Karl.

Rove: Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t. But I respect those who consciously get up in the morning and put a flag lapel pin on.

Dear Karl: Shut the fuck up. Jesus fucking Christ, I don’t have enough lifetimes to parse the stupid in that snippet. If you’re going to spout off about how true patriotism is wearing a fucking flag pin, at least be wearing a fucking flag pin when you do so. Never mind the sheer fuckwittery of the rest of what you said.

By his lights, the woman who called me after 9/11 wanting American flags embroidered on literally every inch of her company shirts must be presidential material.

Somebody give me a drink. I can take no more.