It’s been a couple days since a California candidate stepped in muck or stuffed a foot in her mouth, but the indefatigable Tom Meyer won’t let that hamper the exercise of his constitutional right to cruel and vicious political mockery.
The far-famed, well-coiffed and handsomely recompensed political cartoonist and Calbuzzer has made good use of the time, memorializing the best gaffes made at the starting line of the 2010 general election races.
So today we present Meyer’s uniquely twisted take on Hurricane Carly’s Mean Girls complex, Krusty Brown’s Third Reich fetish and the all-star Houdini act of California’s voters.
P.S. If you’re interested in having a full-color print of one of Meyer’s cartoons to frame and hang on your wall – just in time for the holidays! send us a note at firstname.lastname@example.org and we’ll fix you up in a jiffy.
Paging Ron Ziegler: General Stanley McChrystal was forced to perform career seppuku for the brain-dead comments he and his Animal House entourage made to Rolling Stone’s Michael Hastings – but at least Canned Stan could explain his nit wit indiscretion on having been snot-flying drunk at the time.
But what about the press guy – what’s his excuse?
The big brain behind giving Hastings unlimited access to McChrystal and his guys is a somewhat shadowy figure with a limey accent named Duncan Boothby (a phony name is there ever was one), who’s described in news accounts as a “civilian senior adviser” to the general, and who previously worked in the region for Lt. General William Caldwell:
Caldwell became a proponent of using “new media” to communicate with targeted audiences, and he began collecting civilian public affairs specialists, including Boothby, to expand the work of the military’s rigid public affairs system and to maximize the “strategic impact of new media” through a program call CAC Stratcomms. “He wanted to use media as a weapon,” one officer explained.
How’s that workin’ out for you general?
Boothby got fired about 12 seconds after the Rolling Stone piece made its way onto the web, and appears to have fled Afghanistan one step ahead of the posse.
But seriously, does having to leave Afghanistan seem like sufficient sanction for such a felony stupid move? Shouldn’t Duncan have to answer for this bloody mess and explain, you know, WTF WERE YOU THINKING???
Great news, sir! I’ve arranged for a Rolling Stone reporter to hang out with you and the gang for a month!
Rolling Stone? Isn’t that where Hunter Thompson used to work?
No worries, sir. Completely different publication today. Plus, my sources tell me Lady GaGa and her machine gun tatas will be on the cover so nobody will read the piece anyway.
The boys’ll still be able to kick back when they’re off duty, though?
Absolutely, sir. No problem at all.
While an eager ation awaits the big book contract and inevitable surfacing of Boothby, perhaps as a military affairs analyst for the Rachel Maddow show, we propose that the Public Relations Society of America immediately endow an annual prize, to be called The Duncan, to be presented each year to the flack who screws up his boss’s career in the most hideous way.
If no one’s performance meets the Boothby standard of excellence, the association can present the award for outstanding historic work (What about the unnamed genius who put Michael Dukakis in the tank? Who thought it was a great idea to have Sarah Palin interviewed in front of turkeys being slaughtered? Or who told BP’s CEO, “no sweat, Tony, just relax and have a good time at the yacht race”? ) – or even give it posthumously.
“Nonsense, Mr. President, you and Mrs. Lincoln deserve some time to yourselves – have a great time at the theater.”