By York Van Nixon III
There are least two unique qualities of humanity: its capacity of error and penchant for self-deception. When a hungry squirrel searches for buried nuts and forgets the exact hole of a tasty acorn, one never sees their whiskers bent in embarrassment, or hears cute, little grunts of self-recrimination. Instead, the likable rodent holds his nose high to the air and proceeds to the next promise of seedy bounty.
Having a brain the size of a legume has its advantages. Just ask Texas Governor Rick Perry. He can make a fool of himself on national television and pretend not knowing major agencies of the federal government is as important as remembering what snack he had last night. In all likelihood, a can of salted peanuts is comfort food for someone who might have trouble with complex junk foods such as Ding-Dongs.
Well, say what you will about Perry’s mental acuity, if nothing else – he has 17 million dollars to spend on damage control. In the wake of his Dan Quayle moment (“p-o-t-a-t-o-e”), the Perry campaign made the rounds on late-night television in an attempt to allay supporters’ doubts of his ability to sit in the executive chair in the Oval Office without tipping over. It is probably safe to say by now the only people believing he is presidential material are those doubting evolution and the earth round, which it is not.
Before the laughter died from the GOP presidential debate in Michigan, Rick Perry decided to try his hand at comedy on the David Letterman Show. It came as no surprise he did a competent job of playing a fool.
The biggest laugh came when he broached the rumor about Justin Bieber fathering a child.
“I just found out that Justin Bieber is my father,” Perry said.
Gov. Perry, before the next debate – you should call your daddy. Justin can probably name more than two agencies of the federal government.