Titters about Mittens, from London

The Clip Blog

With so much Team GB press slamming Mitt Romney's gaffes , how can one Yank visiting in the UK pass up the opportunity to let the non-political politician step on his solid gold tongue?

Given this is a bit like a clip Simpsons show, let me begin with Rupert Murdoch's The Times. They said it all in a political cartoon. (Note: no link available given the paper is behind a 100% pay wall. Remember, Mr. Murdoch does have a few lawsuits to pay for given the shenanigans detailed in the fascinating book Dial M for Murdoch.) In the cartoon, two men are seen holding a newspaper with the headline "Mitt Romney's Remarks". One says to the other, "Pity they don't dope-test politicians."

Again, from The Times; "One diplomatic source said of the encounters: "It is worse than Sarah Palin in terms of basic diplomany." Another said: "There is none of the stardust of his opponent." "Most significantly of all, senior figures in all three political parties suggested they had not be overwhelmed by Mr. Romney in person and were disappointed by his Olympics gaffe." The article added, especially given the 2002 Winter Games that Romney touts as an achievement "...were beset with allegations of corruption." And given the hacking of Murdoch's newspapers as recent charges detail, Murdoch's newspapers know from corruption.

The conservative newspaper, The Daily Telegraph noted: "Mitt Romney is perhaps the only politician who could start a trip that was supposed to be a charm offensive by being utterly devoid of charm and mildly offensive."

Again from The Times, Romney called the Labour Leader Ed Miliband "Mr. Leader", in a moment that was viewed as Romney's not remembering Mr. Miliband's name. Then there was the comment by Romney when he said he "welcomed the view of the beach volleyball arena "out of the backside of Downing Street." This in a land where the word -pants- are underwear or knickers, and manners are still considered of important. As one former nanny would have said, "How rude!"

Most appropriate was Romney sitting outside the Tower of London when he said what was viewed as the snootiest and snarkiest of all his commentary, how "disconcerting, the stories about the private security firm not having enough people, supposed strike of immigrantion and customs...." PM David Cameron responded with a clipped "We are holding and Olympic Games in one of the busiest, most active, bustling cities anywhere in the world. Of course it's easier if you hold and Olympic Games in the middle of nowhere." To quote Horrible Histories, "off with his HEAD".

Or was that Alice in Wonderland?

The Guardian reported on the ever colorful Boris Johnson, the Mayor of London's comeback, "I hear there's a guy called Mitt Romney who wants to know whether we're ready." The crowd ROARED yes we are.

When Romney let slip he'd had a briefing with MI6 once again showed his lack of diplomatic skills. Doesn't he have a cultural liaison officer? Now to we Yanks it may not seem like a big deal to say you met the CIA boss, but according to BBC4 Radio in GB it is. MI6 is considered so top secret, so top secret that it wasn't even officially acknowledged till the mid1990s. Bad school form for Mittens. But then as Head Boy you didn't have to be diplomatic?

So as you sit back and watch the Olympics it might be an opportunity to wonder what sort of tactless twit thinks he can be Head Boy of America just because he has Swiss Bank Accounts. Foreign bank accounts do not make one knowledgeable about the rest of the world.



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    Candace Drimmer

    I was an accidental expatriate; love and marriage led me to it. One day I was a bandy-legged kid sitting atop my dogwood tree looking out of my small backyard world in 1950s New Jersey, wanting to move somewhere--anywhere, different. Next thing I knew my father had accepted a job in Houston TX. I was ecstatic, it was a foreign land in 1961 America. After high school graduation, my parents’ gave me a matched set of fawn-colored hardsided American Tourister luggage. Taking the hint, I went to college; well four colleges in five years--it was the 60s after all. Meeting a young hirsute anti-war, soon-to-be-Peace Corps volunteer, I fell in love. After finishing up college coursework for my degree, but before I even walking a graduation stage, I grabbed the paper airline ticket my boyfriend had sent me, my brand-new passport, and was off to the airport and Lima, Peru.

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