I recently spent a week with young Lex shaping a block of pine into a toy car for the Cub Scout Pinewood Derby. Lex jr. cut the car on a jig saw. In an effort to cut perfectly along the line he’d drawn, he goofed and cut deep into the nose of the car. Later in an effort to get the car perfectly smooth for painting, he sanded one of the car’s rear fins way down past the other. Lex jr.’s experience reminded me of an old Marine Corps saying, better is the enemy of good enough. A good plan violently executed now is better than the perfect plan which always arrives long after the moment for action has passed.
It seems to me that Republicans are like young Lex now, working their candidates too hard looking for the perfect fit. It ain’t gonna happen, because if nominated I won’t run; if elected I will not serve. So you are going to have to look for candidate that most closely approximates your views on the important issues of the day. Also, if the most important issue of the day for you is equal rights so that you can marry a dog or anything other than defeating Islamo-terror-fascists, you need to rethink your priorities.
Right now I’m inclined toward Mitt Romney, but most any of the others would do because they all seem to understand the issue of the day. McCain is the worst of the bunch for me because anyone who actually believes that’s it a good idea to limit free speech during an election cycle is scary. As a result of McCain-Feingold there is now more money than ever in politics. Way to go John.
The bottom line for Republicans is that they are going to have to settle for something other than perfection – no mater who wins the nomination. At that point, it’ll be important to stop “sanding the candidate down”. Also, remember that Hillary can’t get near 50%. Any “principled third party” run from the right will hand her the election.
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While I was taking an art history summer class the unfinished portrait of George Washington was described as a symbol of an America whose place in the world was just beginning and not complete. After the roving discussion had ended on the deep and cerebral intent of the painter, I concluded that the artist ran out of paint or went fishing. I suspect our nine year old Danny either was creating a sybolistic masterpiece to confound the artworld for centuries, or he was in a hurry as SpongeBob SquarePants was coming on the TV. Only time will tell. The Griffin.
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