I don't think that I have to labor too hard today to point out the overall preposterousness of Harold Ford's run for the New York Senate seat currently held by the appointed Democrat, Kirsten Gillibrand. Let's just take a look at the strenuous exertions made by the New York Post's resident crank columnist Andrea Peyser, in an attempt to praise him:
HAROLD FORD JR. tiptoed into the House of Sharpton, unnoticed and unknown.
In less than an hour, the Memphis transplant who wants to be senator performed shtick that made him sound like a cross between a Baptist preacher and a Borscht Belt comic.
He tried -- and failed -- to torpedo his Southern accent. And he royally ticked off the smitten media, as well as his maybe political rival, Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand.
That's right. Harold Ford Jr. walked into the event a nobody. And he emerged a punk-rock star.
Few in the crowd knew the identity of the cute, quiet guy as he sat onstage at Al Sharpton's National Action Network.
I don't think I need to bother the ghost of Joe Strummer on the Huffington Post Ouija Board to point out that in order to call Harold Ford "punk-rock," your punk-rock vocabulary would have to be limited to the first Angels and Airwaves album.
This sort of reminds me of that time the guy who grew up to play Daniel Faraday on "Lost" attempted to convince America that the Subaru Impreza hatchback was the Darby Crash of automobiles.
Anyway, if that's not enough on the Ford-Gillibrand race, please attempt to make sense of this incomprehensible load of post-structuralist gibberish that Richard Cohen wrote and that the Washington Post, for reasons well beyond human understanding, decided to publish.
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