Obama As Goldilocks: Now, About That Debt Ceiling . . .

Admit it. It’s OK today finally in polite circles. Because Paul Krugman woke up the other night.

And Lo! Verily. So cameth this divine vision down unto his Nobel winning noggin that truly, he who dost caveth before all hath no spine. ‘Why hast thou forsaken your flock?’, he cried. ‘Have we not offered Chenin Blanc and Brouilly both avec Camembert de Normandie‘?

What have they done with President Obama? What happened to the inspirational figure his supporters thought they elected? Who is this bland, timid guy who doesn’t seem to stand for anything in particular? (April 10, 2011)

Thus did Krugman hear the reply as if carried on the wind borne by a twin DR-103 stack. But without mid or presence controls and five pre-amp ECC83 and four EL-34 output tubes per head. For the reply did packeth punch without cascading gain sizzle:


And it was good. Around the dried and empty barrels of Kool Aid and blogs, there was much weeping and gnashing of teeth. Down unto his Twitter followers’ great-great-grandchildren.