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Come Saturday Morning… (Or Afternoon, As The Case May Be)


(I had to say that again just to irritate MEC.  Now she'll have that song in her head the rest of the day.)

So much going on that it's tough to decide what to focus on.  I had to put up that nice calming picture of Superior again, just to settle myself down.  Let's see what's all happening, here, there and everywhere; y'all know about Goodling and Paulose because Christy and Jane have done chapter and verse on that already, so I'll try to look at some other stuff (but don't be surprised if some Paulose-related stuff shows up anyway):

— Charlie over at Across the Great Divide points out Michelle Malkin being silly and racist, and then asks why she's being syndicated in allegedly-respectable daily papers.

— Mark Gisleson of Norwegianity is all over the Rachel Paulose story like Dennis Hastert at a Shoney's buffet line. 

— Speaking of Princess Rachel: John Kelly, the guy from DOJ who had tried and failed to keep the top aides in her staff from quitting their management jobs (they ran the office for her as most political appointees aren't equipped to do that themselves), has been sent down by Gonzales to babysit her so the office (once one of the best and most stable USA offices in the nation) doesn't totally fall apart under her. 

— Tommy Thompson, unlike the other serious Republican candidates for president, isn't a dirty old amoral horndog like Rudy Giuliani, John McCain, or Newt Gingrich.  Oh, wait — scratch that.  Ah, well, at least the Republicans still have Fred Thompson, who has always behaved himself. Oh, wait — scratch that, too.  (And no, I don't care how much money Mister Three Percent Mitt Romney has — he's not a serious candidate.)

— It's getting harder and harder for the industry shills to deny global warming.

— Dog bites man.  Sun rises in East.  Orrin Hatch transmits lies.   Ho hum, says a Salt Lake City columnist — it was just a boo-boo on Orrin's part, I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it; move along, nothing to see here.

— Tild presents us with a poser:  Who's the America-hatin' Terraist-lovin Commie Symp here?

— And what would life be without small furry graceful carnivorous animals to bless us with their presence? 

So what's happening in your neck of the woods today?

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