If life were accordingly fair -- as in an evenly-balanced journey in which the chips don't just fall where they may, but rather where they are supposed to -- we might have seen Clint Eastwood stage an intervention during Monday's final presidential debate.
Fairness would have meant that in less time than it takes for Joe Sixpack to suck down that first cold one, Mr. Sixpack and the rest of us would have witnessed Eastwood make his way onto the debate floor with the same chair that he made headlines with during the GOP convention, place it between Romney and the President, and politely ask Mitt to take a hike.
It was necessary. That's because during this debate, rather than stand and deliver, Romney decided to sit and concede. Once again Mitt pulled his "empty suit" move, but this time in a way that perfectly correlates with the dumb symbolism of Eastwood's empty chair.
Anyone expecting a Patton-esque bad-ass to show up looking for a showdown found him or herself stood up. As might have been expected, "severely conservative" Mitt failed to show. But even "moderate" Mitt was nowhere to be found.
Instead, viewers got "me too," Mitt. Thus, any expectation among the Tea Party crowd of a "serious" philosophical debate -- during which the merits of an amped up, take-no-prisoners foreign policy/national security approach would be made in conjunction with an insightful unraveling of Obama's weak-kneed apology-based agenda -- probably dwindled faster than Dan Rather can spit out a colorful colloquialism.
History will show that on Monday night "Mittens" was as meek as a kitten; more a missionary than a militarist. He flat out sold out to the max; jumping ship on the hawkish, foreign policy big-shot persona used to light the trail he blazed through the GOP primaries right on through to this final face-off with the current Commander-in-Chief.
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