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“Mark Levin: How Does Obama Select Personnel Without Using Binders?”

No answer given, just speculation, of course.  But if I had to guess?  I’d go with “their names appear magically on his teleprompter, almost as if they’d been sent him by God.  Which can’t be the case, clearly, because He is God.  So more likely, it’s some sort of Terminator time travel scenario.”

Science!

10 Replies to ““Mark Levin: How Does Obama Select Personnel Without Using Binders?””

  1. sdferr says:

    huh, I thought Obama is a Black-berryman.

  2. Blake says:

    Obama doesn’t select personnel, Valerie Jarrett does. Jarrett, I’m sure, has an “ideologically pure” litmus test. Competence means nothing to these people.

  3. leigh says:

    OT: Hillary goes off the reservation and tells wimmin to quit whining in this month’s Marie Claire magazine.

    Revenge? Fuck yeah.

  4. geoffb says:

    I’d go with “their names appear magically on his teleprompter, almost as if they’d been sent him by God.

    No God needed, the names on the [binder] page are delivered pre-vetted for purity by various networks like

  5. Jim in KC says:

    Chicken-shit bingo? Dartboards?

  6. palaeomerus says:

    Folders? Bank clips? Zip-Loc bags?

  7. Squid says:

    Obama doesn’t select anybody. People are sent to him, by other people. He don’t wanna talk to nobody what nobody sent, see?

  8. sdferr says:

    heh

  9. palaeomerus says:

    He’s gonna putcha’ all BACK in binders!

  10. dicentra says:

    Steyn mocks the binder thing as only Steyn can:

    Yes, indeed. Romney wants to return us to the 1950s, when a woman’s place was in the binder, when every predatory male had his little black binder, and condescending misogynists would interview applicants for lieutenant governor of Massachusetts and smirk, “Why, Miss Jones, you’re beautiful without your binder . . . ” It was the age of patriarchal sitcoms when the little lady would greet her man at the front door with his pipe and binders, where girls were told they could aspire no further than to ace Home Ec and thereby persuade some eligible young man to put a ring file on their finger. We all remember the careless sexist assumptions of the so-called family shows of those days — Leave It to Binder, Ozzie and Binder, Binder Knows Best, My Three Binders, Gilligan’s Binder, The Binder Bunch — until eventually the mold was broken by The Mary Binder Moore Show in the early Seventies. By then, feminists across the land were burning their binders, and Erica Jong had popularized the “zipless file.” As Gloria Steinem famously said, a woman needs a binder like a fish needs a three-tab manila hanging folder. Soon American wives were filing for divorce.

    In RomneyWorld, when the mullahs drop the big Iranian nuke, there’ll be nothing crawling out from the irradiated rubble except cockroaches and binders — or some hideous mutation of the two: bindroaches, vile creatures prowling the land on three pairs of jointed rings ready to snap shut on your daughters’ ankles as they attempt to access the last Planned Parenthood clinic in America.

    Finally, the Democrats have found their voice! From Wisconsin the Badger State to Massachusetts the Binder State, women and sensitive New Age men in touch with their filings are standing up as one to Mitt Romney: Keep your Averys off my ovaries! This is the most important election of our lifetimes: Make it a non-binder resolution.

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