Friday, February 01, 2019

The merest murmur of Aspirations

on the part of Former Governor of Massachusetts Bill Weld and like a well trained cadre of teenyboppers "The Bill Weld Fan Club" convenes on the front page of the Boston Globe.

I've said it before, I've said it a thousand times, the Boston Globe is mysteriously besotted with the political aspirations of Bill Weld, no matter how inconsequence or casual they may be.  They just love him, his detachment, his insolence his casual WASPy contempt for humanity...its make's em' pant...
This time Weld may run for President, either as a Libertarian (assuming that twitchy cohort consents to nominate him) or else a direct challenge to Trump in the Primaries as a Republican.  True to Weldian form, there are strong drawbacks to both options; in 2016 Weld pledged heart mind and soul (such as it is) to the Libertarian Cause, backing off on that now would be very..."Weld-Like", but would look like rank opportunism to the rest of Us.  Plus you have to factor in the perennial also ran status of the Libertarian Party and sure-as-shooting they'll never secure a berth at the Debates in the Fall.
Weld running as a Republican just means he'll be crushed by the time he reaches the Florida Primary with little to show from his Quixotic Charge for Glory. The Former Governor has to be astute enough to realize that Trump's opposition within the GOP is fatally divided, isolated and limited to rhetorical gusts only.
Moreover, in both scenarios, where the hell is the money gonna come from???
No its time to face facts, Bill Weld is a washed up hack, a jobber, he got bored with being Governor, couldn't get elected to the US Senate, couldn't get a hearing on his appointment as Ambassador to Mexico, couldn't get nominated for Governor of New York and didn't get elected Vice President. Bill Weld isn't a hero, he is a mess, a seventy four year old tattered, ruined, over the hill joke of a politician, More Harold Stassen than anything else these days.
If I had to guess he'll run as a Libertarian and never be heard from again, save for the Boston Globe camping out all night on his stoop to get his autograph first thing in the morning....

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