Did I say cigar? I meant weenie.
Senator Harry Reid and tons of the usual suspects were up near Nor'Town brandishing weenie surrogates and expounding their love of guns, and, if Freud's right, weenies, at a dedication for the Clark County Gun Park. (Sun)
Nothing apparently gave them pause, such as the fact that the park may still face some tough environmental reviews from the Environmental Protection Agency. (Sun) Or that the park wasn't set to open for a month or two. Or that Nevada is a leading exporter of illegal guns used for crimes. (NorT) Or that Nor'Towners feel like we already live in a gun park, what with the weekend shoot outs at the local waterholes and débutante balls.
Perhaps our overlords simply wanted to signal that all talk of environmental review is a sham to be squashed under the thumb of the Nevada delegation like a desert tortoise under a landmover.
It's enough to tempt one to look for a new Republican senator in 2010, except that both parties seem to fear such a lack of mojo that they feel the need to join in the lord-of-the-flies dance that we Americans dance around our powder-filled weenie surrogates.
Still, the occasion was not without amusement. One can imagine Clark County Commissioner Collins staying up all night washing the hand that shook the Gøøbers' paw, all for naught. After all, the Gube now reeks of mojo, we hear, so much so that…
Then again, Mr. Collins has had his hand in so many pockets, a judge has recently pronounced that he can't vote on a construction project. (Sun) So a little Gøøber mojo on the dactyls might not bother him.
Say, is it me, or does Nevada politics now look like a bad Austin Powers sequel?