The Bible says that the last days will be marked by “rumors of war“. It’s a good thing it didn’t say “rumors of running for Governor“, because if it did, after this year’s PA Society, the end would surely be nigh. And while I don’t know what “nigh” means, the end is one thing you don’t want to be nigh.

Last weekend I attended my 10th Pennsylvania Society. Each year I’ve tried to give a moment-by-moment account. I pride myself on accuracy, only changing two things. I alter the names of those involved but only slightly so you can still recognize them. And I utterly fabricate anything necessary to make myself look hotter, smarter, and, this year, more Gubernatorial . So remember, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. But we weren’t in Vegas. So enjoy!

THURSDAY

Thursday night is what I refer to as “Guys’ Night“. It’s a night when real men can get together and talk about rugged and manly things. This year, it was mostly what colors make the prettiest tapestries (surprising, I know). I joined a group of my buddies at a steak house on the East Side. As we ate raw Bison while heatedly debating color palettes and holding up fabric swatches, I started getting my first texts about people who were jumping into the Governor’s race.

It was fascinating. Without mentioning names (for fear of being proven wrong or beaten up), I think I can safely say that the names I was hearing ranged from interesting and credible to insane and delusional. You wouldn’t call some of these people Governor if their name was “Governor“.

Then I had an epiphany. If ANYONE could say they wanted to be governor, why can’t I start some good rumors about myself? It was at that moment I decided that I had to make sure someone started some rumors about me. And then I realized, that like the recent rumor that Kate Middleton had a “I {heart} Daylin” butt tattoo, I had to start the rumors myself.

FRIDAY

I woke up fairly early and decided to immediately get some rumors going. As I went for my run, I saw the hotel housekeeper and told her “don’t go in my room for a while, you’ll wake up Taylor Swift and she hates that”. Wow, this is fun!

After my run I got a haircut. Yes, a Gubernatorial Haircut! Although I suspected there was an issue when the first staffer who saw me said “Did you yell at the person who gave you that haircut?!?”. Then, it was back to the rumor mill. Since I left Taylor to go run, 8 more people had been mentioned for Governor, 13 for Congress, and Tim Briggs was called a “shoe-in” for the Nobel Prize in Physics. I needed to catch up.

So I immediately started a Twitter hashtag: #rumorsaboutDaylin. This allowed people to keep up with the rumors about me, but had the unfortunate collateral effect of inspiring a bunch of other hashtags, including #DaylinisaDork, #WhyIHateDaylin, and #IfISeeDaylinI’mGonnaKickHisAssSoHelpMeGod. Hey, its the price you pay for being destined for high office.

I then immediately started tweeting rumors I had “heard” about me, knowing that nobody would suspect I was making them up myself in a desperate attempt to compensate for the lack of attention I received as a child. These rumors included:

= I’m running for Governor, but not of Pennsylvania.

= I’m running for Congress.

= I’m running for the Bundestag.

= Pat Toomey has asked me to be his Vice-Senator.

= Governor Corbett calls me his ‘little minx’”.

= I once shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.

= My CIA nick-name is “Danger Hunk”.

As I made the round of receptions that night, it all seemed to be working like a charm. I would bump into people and they’d playfully say “Hey Governor” or “Hey Congressman” or “There he is! I’m going to kick his ass, so help me God”.

At one point, my posse and I were in search of shrimp and good conversation. Mostly shrimp. And we saw a big bowl of it on a table in a small reception in the Waldorf. So I went in and grabbed a medium-sized mountain of crustaceans, and started digging in. Then, when I looked up to take a breath, I saw the entire vast right-wing conspiracy staring at me.

In a circle were Kevin Shivers, Dave Patty, Lowman Henry, Gene Barr and the rest of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. I had apparently walked into the Satanic Cotillion or whatever they call their gatherings. They seemed concerned that I was being a bit “liberal” with their shrimp. Naturally, the polite thing to do was to go over and say hello.

It turns out they were very nice guys and surprisingly open to persuasion on many of the points of contention between us. After about 15 minutes, Dave left to get a likeness of Barack Obama tattooed on his chest. Kevin promised to sell his guns and give the money to gay welfare recipients and Lowman said he planned to quit it all and go open a stand selling purses made out of hemp on the beach. Gene still seemed stuck on how many shrimp I had taken.

SATURDAY

Today started off with the Penn Breakfast. This is a great event that has become so crowded it has evolved into a test of whether you can talk about who is running for what while not pouring smoked salmon on your neighbor or accidentally impregnating the next Governor.

As for me, I noticed that the talk had morphed from whether I would run for Governor into what state I was running in. I heard a number of people whisper that they hoped it would be “far away“. It was here I ran into John Hanger, the only person to officially declare his candidacy, who vehemently denied he was running, in a brilliant piece of counter-strategy!

In the afternoon, I left the world of Pennsylvania politics briefly when I saw Al Pacino in Glengarry-Glenross on Broadway. Pacino was terrific but even he felt the need to tell the audience that he was happy doing his current job and had no plans “at this time” to set up a Gubernatorial Exploratory Committee. Although he would be accepting contributions to FredoPAC, his Political Action Committee.

Saturday night, I did something I never do (no, not “leave a tip”). I went to the official PA Society Dinner. I sat with political consultant “Doc” Sweitzer who was even more irreverent than me. When the speeches got long I took out an imaginary gun, spun the chamber and pointed it at my head. Not to be outdone, Doc then took out a real gun, spun the chamber and pointed at my head. Fortunately for me and seemingly frustrating for him, he didn’t shoot the chamber with the bullet.

The honoree was film-maker M. Night Shyamalan. I found his acceptance speech very moving. He talked about his family and his co-workers and how he was inspired to make the movies he did by the people he had met. And then it hit me! THAT BASTARD IS RUNNING FOR GOVERNOR!!!

I immediately started a “Stop Shyamalan” Facebook page and tweeted that he had raised taxes 4 times! (Twice while making Signs!). I also started a rumor that the Lady in the Water was ME!!. I never saw that movie and had no idea what that meant, but I figured it would confuse people enough to stop a Shyamalan bandwagon.

Finally, I ended the weekend at the Marcellus Shale Coalition Party. After some serious slam-dancing with someone who looked a lot like lobbyist Bill Bova, who called himself “Bill” and two tender slow-dances with Auditor General-Elect Eugene DePasquale, it was back to Pennsylvania where the “Leach for New Mexico!” signs were already littering the turnpike.

All in all, it was another great PA Society Weekend. Food was eaten, drinks were drinked. Egos were inflated, and impossible, even frightening dreams were nurtured. And remember, the next time you hear a Taylor Swift song, its probably about me.

D

When you go to a doctor, there are times your malady is obvious. Elephantitis, or a goiter shaped like guitar come to mind. However, other times the cause of your symptoms is more elusive and mysterious. For example, if you have been in contact with neuro-toxins, or small doses of deadly poisons, like Arsenic or Chicken McNuggets, the doctor may need more information on what you’ve been exposed to in order to determine what ails you.

In the recently passed Marcellus Shale “fracking” bill, known as “Act 13″ to the general public and as “Christmas Morning” to the natural gas industry, drillers do not have to reveal to the public what is in the fracking fluid they are pumping into the ground. According to some articles (such as this article), these chemicals include dozens of carcinogens and otherwise “toxic pollutants.” And I don’t think they mean the good kind of toxic.

There was a provision in Act 13 that created an exception to this general “Nothing-To-See-Here” rule of non-disclosure. If a doctor is treating a patient and suspects exposure to a toxic fracking chemical, that doctor may ask the drilling company to reveal to him what was in the fracking fluid. I know what you’re thinking: the drilling company may then have the doctor shot, in keeping with the tenor of the rest of the bill.

But no! In an act of enlightenment, which makes the Magna Carta look like it was written by Stalin, the bill requires the company to turn the information over to the doctor. But ONLY…wait for it…if the doctor signs a “confidentiality agreement,” either prior to receiving the contents of the fluid in the event of a non-emergency, or shortly after receiving it in an emergency situation.

Allow me to digress briefly to discuss confidentiality agreements. The theory of a “confidentiality” agreement is that the signer agrees to keep information “confidential.” See, this is the sort of legal acumen that once led my contracts professor to call my legal mind “hollow as a tea-kettle” and “chimp-like.” If I can tell someone the information, particularly someone who has not also signed a confidentiality agreement, then the information is less confidential, in the sense that a live goat that has been Bar-B-Qued is less live.

Since the bill, as written, REQUIRES doctors to agree to confidentiality, then it would logically prohibit them from revealing the information, even to the patients they are treating, other doctors involved in the treatment, and even the insurance dude who has to approve reimbursement.

If doctors could spill the beans (although I’m told there are no actual beans in fracking fluid) to all of these people, none of whom have signed a confidentiality agreement with any drilling company, then who exactly are they supposed to keep the information confidential from? Perhaps random hermits who eat bugs, and know all the secrets of life, except the ones about not eating bugs.

All of this puts physicians in a very precarious position. The statute gives physicians no protection to disclose information to anybody. It gives them no guidance, exposes them to lots of potential legal liability, and puts them at the mercy of a confidentiality agreement drafted by the drilling company. But on the other hand, the spelling in the bill is near perfect, and it says nothing about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict that can’t be walked back later.

Thus, it was odd yesterday when the Pennsylvania Medical Society, the organization charged with protecting the interests of physicians, issued a statement in support of the legislation as written. In fact, there were several strange things about the statement.

First, why? (always start with existential questions). It’s very strange for the Medical Society to issue a statement in support of legislation AFTER it has passed. It’s reminiscent of my recent marriage proposal to Kate Middleton (she says she’s thinking about it). Lobbying groups are usually focused on what’s to come. This is why the Tavern Association has sent very few E-mails about prohibition recently.

Second, the text of the statement is so fawning towards the Corbett administration as to raise real suspicions as to who actually wrote it. The letter “applauds” the administration for “demonstrating their concern for public safety” and compliments them on their “responsiveness” and specifically raves about the Governor’s “searing bedroom eyes.” (OK, I made up that last part, but it wouldn’t be out of place in this statement). Again, usually letters this obsequious turn out to be written by the person being praised (see, for example, “The Amazing Abs of Senator Leach, Volume 7″).

I suppose it is possible that the folks at the Med Society woke up yesterday morning, opened the window, heard a scream, remembered they needed to put pants on, and decided it was the perfect day to write a worship prayer to Governor Corbett for no apparent reason. But then again, I believe in evolution, so you see how divorced from reality I am.

I would also note that the President of the Pennsylvania Medical Society (a/k/a the Tom Corbett Fan Club), the same group that wrote the statement about how wonderful the Act 13 is for physicians, said the following in a newspaper article just last week:

“If there’s this confidentiality agreement that you need to sign off on, how open are you to share that information whether directly with the patient, or the state, or for research, said Dr. Marilyn J. Heine, President of the PA Medical Society? “There’s some ambiguity. The law isn’t identifying what the limitations are.”

It seems that Marilyn has had an abrupt change of heart. I wonder if she practices medicine that way. “You have leprosy, no, I mean a toothache, actually your hair’s on fire. You’re fine. Pay the receptionist.”

Was there any pressure there? We report, you decide. However, it does seem clear that this is odd praise by a pro-physician organization for a bill which imposes new and unprecedented legal restrictions on physicians, as Dr. Heine herself acknowledged.

Third, the statement says, in effect, it will all be okay because Health Secretary Avila has “clarified” that physicians may in fact share information with patients and others necessary to provide treatment. That’s awesome!!

Unfortunately, that’s not what the law actually says. And given the choice between following the law as written, or Secretary Avila’s statement to the PA Med Society, I fear the courts will follow the law. Although, it is possible that the US Supreme Court listened to Secretary Avila in deciding Bush v. Gore, in that no other explanation makes sense.

The fact is that the bill I’ve introduced protecting physicians and patients reflects the law that the Corbett administration claims they want to see. So rather than wishing Act 13 says something it does not, why not just support my clarifying language?

A cynic would say that perhaps there is another agenda. That perhaps the ambiguity of Act 13, which puts physicians at risk, will prevent them from disclosing information without inviting the political blow-back of actually putting such a prohibition in the legislation. But I try not to be a cynic. I try to see the good in everyone (except Liz Cheney, I’m not insane). So hopefully the sensitive, caring, humanitarian governor referred to in the Med Society’s statement will prove to be worth every word of what he wrote about himself in that statement. Stay tuned…

Sleuthfully Yours,

Daylin

    Each year I write about my experiences during this storied weekend. The account I give below is largely accurate in the same way that my campaign literature is “largely accurate.” I embellish only slightly, and omit only a few unimportant details which may or may not have anything to do with me getting arrested, sneaking out of restaurants without paying, or wearing High-Karate aftershave.

 DAY 1 – Thursday

    For the first time in 10 years I went up to New York Thursday night. I had been invited by a group of male colleagues and lobbyists I know to attend what was known as “Guy’s Night.” In the Quentin Tarrantino movie “Reservoir Dogs” the characters concealed their identity by calling each other “Mr. Pink” or “Mr. Brown.”  In that spirit, I will refer to my companions by their secret hors d’oeuvre names. So after I checked into the W Hotel and splashed on my High-Karate (hey, that never happened), I met up with “Mr. Shrimp,” “Mr. Salmon Puff,” “Mr. Brochette” and “Mr. Chicken Satay on a skewer with a lemon glaze.”

     First, we adopted manly theme songs. My buddies chose tunes such as “Wild Thing,” “Highway to Hell.”  I decided to use The Theme Song to the Brady Bunch. This led to a very manly debate how whether my choice was sufficiently macho which was interrupted by the arrival of our cab.

      First, we went to a very expensive steak house and, after being assured that the cows suffered sufficiently, ordered steaks the size of large steaks. Except, being a vegetarian, I ordered an eggplant quiche, which birthed yet another manly debate about just how manly we were all expected to be.

       Eventually, Mr. Salmon Puff suggested we go to a bar he had been to before. Soon, I found myself walking into a very loud, low-lit place where it appears that some of the employees were oddly dressed. For example, do you know how some dresses are sleeveless? These dresses were very, very sleeveless. I asked Mr. Shrimp who these people were. He explained to me how Vitamin D is absorbed through the skin, and that these were lobbyists for Vitamin D.

       When we first arrived, we were greeted by Tim, a large, muscular man in a tuxedo. I tried to get him to join me in a round of the Brady Song, but he didn’t seem interested. He explained he was the “exterior door man” and that he accepted tips. When we tipped Tim and entered the club we met Harvey. He was apparently the “interior door man” and was also kind enough to accept tips.

       Harvey then handed us off to Otis, who was our host. I was unaware of what a “host” does. But now I know that he points in the general direction of a bunch of tables, some of which have empty seats you can sit at if you wish. For this, Otis requires what he called “a special tip.”

         Soon a waitress arrived. and explained that if we would be kind enough to tip her, she would be kind enough to take our drink order. I asked if we could tip her when she brought the drinks. She explained patiently that another person would actually be bringing the drinks. That would be our “server”, and she likes”GIMONDO Tips.” I ordered a screwdriver and turned over the required $10 to ensure the bartender actually puts Vodka into it. I then went to the bathroom, outside of which I encountered Phil. We chatted briefly:

 Phil

Hi. I’m Phil

 Me

Hi Phil.

 Phil

I accept tips.

 Me

I thought you might. What is it you do?

Phil

I’m the Tornado Warner.

 Me

The Tornado Warner?

 Phil

I warn people going into the men’s room if a tornado is coming.

Me

Is that a big problem here?

 Phil

Not so far.

 Me

What about people going into the ladies room? Do they get warned?

 Phil

Oh sure, Todd does that. He takes tips too.

 Me

I thought he might.

    Finally, it was late. I walked back to my hotel by myself humming (“Here’s a story, of a lovely lady…”). I ran into a drunk guy walking down the street outside. He threw up on my shoes. I tipped him. Pa Society was off to a great start.

 Day 2 – FRIDAY

       I woke up late, after a Dr. Phil Marathon until 4:00 AM (I guess the macho thing still had a grip on me). I went for a long run in Central Park to clear my head and get rid of the Virgin Pina-Colada hangover I was nursing. Then my wife arrived and we caught up. She asked me a lot of very detailed questions about the Vitamin D lobbyists. Then, it was time to clip on my tie and head out to the receptions.

      I should mention that while I knew I would be seeing lots of people as I went from party to party, I wanted to make a particular point of sharing some quality time with Governor Corbett. Because the truth is, we have let our busy lives, and our disdain of the evil the other represents, get in the way of nurturing our relationship for the past…I’m not sure how old he is, but THAT long. So I want to make sure to…”stalk” is such a harsh word, but certainly seek-out the governor to give him the gift of some Daylin-time.

      The first event we attended was a reception for Senate Majority Leader Dom Pileggi. And it was very nice, depending on what you were looking for. If you were looking for Republicans, this party was AWESOME. If however, you were looking for a tofu-bar, there was room for improvement.

      However, I did have my first sighting of Governor Corbett. I waved at him. He pretended not to wave at me (very convincingly I might add). I wordlessly suggested we hang out. His eyes said “yes, yes, yes.” But his Secret Service detail said “time to move along pal,” so I cut out.

       I then went to the Cozen O’Connor event at the 21 Club. Here, there were no sightings of Governor Corbett, but lots of sightings of Lobster Rolls. The room was so crowded that I was forced to eat other people’s food just to make room for us all to stand. I saw about 45 legislators there, including about 42 future Presidents of the United States.

      At one point I got a cup of tea and started joking with everyone I met about how I was now a member of the “Tea Party.” And here I had thought that people became more jolly when they got drunk. Boy I was wrong about that.

      Then, me and my Leo DiCaprio-sized posse walked a few more blocks and went to Senator Vince Hughes’ party. He had advertised that the “Number One Urban Dance Troop in the Nation” was going to be there. And that’s why I went. If the event only was supposed to feature the number two Urban Dance Troop in the country, there was no way I was going to be there. When it comes to Urban Dance Troops, give me #1 or give me death! (Liberty? More negotiable.)

     I ran into Chamber of Commerce lobbyist Gene Barr there. I was not surprised. When I think of Urban Dance Troops, I think of the Chamber of Commerce. It just goes together, like peanut butter and liverwurst.

     I also was surprised to see Governor Corbett. I ran over to him before he could escape. We had a very long conversation where we found we agreed on almost every issue. Then, I realized I was actually speaking to Representative Tony Peyton. I really need to get better glasses.

      I eventually wound up back at the Waldorf and Johnny Doc’s Local 98 reception. There was a kick-ass band playing lots of Motown. They were even taking requests. When I asked them to do Monty Python’s Dead Parrot Sketch, I had my second encounter of the weekend with Governor Corbett’s security detail. It was hard to even say goodbye to folks, given that I was being dragged upside down as I left the room. But I did see a pair of shoes which could very well have been the Governor’s, and I slipped a note asking if he wanted to grab some Korean Bar-B-Que in his sock.

Day 3- Saturday

       Once again I started the day with exercise. I spent an hour on the stationary bike at the hotel gym. As I worked out, I watched a show involving a nun with a giant crucifix sitting almost perfectly still. I didn’t have head-phones so I couldn’t hear what she was saying. But it was so visually interesting I didn’t mind.

        After my shower I hit the Penn Breakfast. I love this event, you are literally swept along a sea of omelet-seekers. Your feet never have to touch the ground. As a result, you only have time for a very short sentence in any one conversation before you are swept away. So my conversations at the Penn Breakfast were as follows:

 ”I’ll have cheese with…”

“Good morning Tom, boy your wife was really…”

“Hey Congressman! Your new district looks like my…”

“Hey man, sorry about last week. I didn’t mean to vote against your disease.”

“It’s YOU! Why you little F…”

“Mayor Nutter! So nice to see you!

“What? No, this is not Narcoleptics Anonymous, you made a wrong…”

“Governor Corbett! Wait!! Stop! Are we still on for Korean Bar-B-Que?”

      Finally, I ran into Kevin Harley, Governor Corbett’s Press Secretary. Kevin once said “Daylin Leach says something outrageous and irresponsible every single day.” As we passed each other we joked about that, and then I said “Hey Kevin, Governor Corbett’s propensity to eat human flesh makes Jeffrey Dahmer look like a vegan.”

          Well, that irresponsible statement seemed to outrage Harley. I was happy to help out. It is, after all, the holiday season.

          That afternoon I went out with a friend of mine who always get me tickets to a hot Broadway show (remember what I said about certain traditions being valuable and enduring). This year we saw “Book of Mormon.” This play was written by the folks who bring you South Park. So if you go into this thinking its “White Christmas” set in Utah, you are in for a bit of surprise.

        After a nap, and another hour with my motionless nun friend (TIVO is awesome!) I went out to dinner with a couple of lobbyists I’ve known for a long time. They were nice enough to invite me even though it was a very Republican crowd.

       But when it came time to invite me, partisan politics meant nothing to these women. Apparently, neither did my table manners, nor wardrobe, nor my insistence on talking about how my prom date stood me up (you’d think my mom would have been more reliable).

       After dinner I ended the night at the Marcellus Shale Frack-a-Palooza. I’ve got to admit, it was an amazing party.    There was a large dance floor where everyone was letting their hair down. I even saw Lt. Governor Cawley cutting a rug. He danced like Fred Astaire, if Fred Astaire had been made of ply-wood. I also saw Mark Cohen jump up and do a split, although I’m not sure it was intentional, in that he’s still there.

        Finally, I spied Governor Corbett from across the room. He was doing some neat trick where he was taking frack water and burning a hole in the granite on the bar. I remember the moment perfectly. It was like the scene in West Side Story where Tony and Maria first see each other, and everyone else freezes. Except I don’t remember a bunch of secret-service agents leaping on Tony in the musical. I mean there was Officer Krupke, but he never had a Taser.

       In any event, I woke up an hour later, snuggly in my hotel room, with  the TV on and my wife muttering the names of old boyfriends. I suggested we put the nun show back on. But apparently someone had given her a Taser “for later.”

 Day 4 – Sunday

       Sadly, all good things must come to an end. And so to, must Pennsylvania Society Weekend. There wasn’t time to do much Sunday morning. We packed our bags, said goodbye to New York City, and waited an hour and a half in a Korean Bar-B-Que joint for Governor Corbett to show up. He must have been delayed by an emergency dog naming.

      But what is the take-away from all of this? What have I learned? How is my life, and the lives of those I touched richer? I’m not sure I know the answer to that, but I’m pretty sure it involves not wearing High-Karate aftershave ever again.

 Daylin

You’d think I would take some sense of satisfaction in always being right. But you’d be wrong (unlike me, who in similar circumstances, and by definition, would be right). Being right all the time is a burden. It’s like having a big albatross around your neck, except there is less pecking and less generally smelling like a bird.

I thought the Phillies offense would fail them in the playoffs, and I was right. I thought my prom date would ditch me for someone she could “stomach,” and I was right. I thought that People Magazine would insist on thinking “inside the box” and name George Clooney the Sexiest Man Alive instead of me, and yes, once again, I was right.

The latest thing I’ve been proven right about involves our Governor’s plan to change the way we select electoral votes from the current system, which is popularly known as the “winner-take-all” method, to a new system, popularly known as “Lets get Mitt Romney some votes” method.

In my previous writings, lectures, debates, and nude performance-art appearences on this issue, I said that this was a well-funded national effort to change the laws in cherry-picked states to guarantee that the Republican presidential candidate wins, no matter how the actual votes are cast.

I pointed to the fact that Republicans in Nebraska, one of the two states that does divide its electoral votes (and the only state to think that naming their sports teams “The Corn Huskers” is intimidating) are going back to winner-take-all because Barack Obama had the audacity, not only of hope, but of getting one electoral vote in a state that John McCain carried. Apparently, making sure the Democratic voters in Lincoln feel their voices are heard is not a priority to those who husk corn.

I further said that we would soon see the same plan emerge in other states where Republicans temporarily control state government, but which tend to vote Democratic (or “Communistically Fascist” as Glenn Beck would say) in national elections. I pointed to Wisconsin and Michigan as the next likely targets.

“WRONG!!!” said the administration (apparently not being familiar with my prom experience). “Senator Leach is paranoid, and delusional, and crazy, and a bad dancer, and his shirts don’t match his pants…” (the administration does tend to overreact). “This is just an innocent local effort” they said, “to ensure that the people of Central Pennsylvania don’t lose an election simply because they got fewer votes“. They demanded to know what evidence I had for my pierogi-fueled ravings. (Pierogies have a big effect on me).

Well, sit down. Prepare to be shocked. Maybe have a sip of scotch, or a bottle of Percocet (either one works), because this article hit today’s “Badger Herald” (they name newspapers after the local animal most likely to bite you in your basement):

http://badgerherald.com/news/2011/10/12/bill_would_divide_st.php

It turns out that Representative Dan LeMahieu, a Republican who represents the city of Cascade (where they make an excellent cheese that can also be used as a dish-washing liquid) in Wisconsin, has introduced legislation identical to what has been introduced in Pennsylvania. It should be noted that like Pennsylvania, Wisconsin tends to vote Democratic in presidential elections. In fact, their streak is longer than ours. They even voted for Michael Dukakis in 1988, which led their legislature to ban “voting-while-on-hashish”.

There are a couple of things to take note of here. First, I’m right again. So take that People Magazine.

Second, Republicans in Texas, Alabama, Mississippi, and other states the Republican Presidential nominee could not lose if he was indicted for treason, show absolutely NO interest in splitting their electoral votes by gerrymandered Congressional District. There is little discernable GOP interest in making sure the hippies in Austin feel better about their roll in presidential elections. These poor hemp-lovin’, tie-dye wearin’, tofu-eaters never vote for a candidate who carries their state. In fairness, they usually don’t vote for the Democrat either, preferring to cast their last 10 presidential ballots for either Ralph Nader, or anyone with the word “Rainbow” in their name.

This effort has now been exposed as an attempt to change the rules so that red states vote as a unified, winner-take-all block, and blue states vote in a divided by-congressional-district mess. Further, since the Republicans are the ones gerrymandering those blue states, they will still give most of their votes to the Republican candidate, even while their people vote Democratic. In Ohio, a 50-50 state, the new Congressional map is 12-4 Republican. Ours will be 12-6.

So lets say in 2016 Dennis Kucinich, the Democratic nominee carries both states. He will get 14 electoral votes, while Larry Craig (Hey! Anyone can make a comeback), the Republican candidate, will get 24. Meanwhile, Mr. Craig will get all of Texas’ 38 electoral votes. This means nothing less than the end of competitive presidential elections.

At the very least, the actions of the Badgers and the Corn Huskers make any denials that this is a national effort to rig presidential elections more difficult. At worst, this plan would be the end of our ability to claim that we are a true democracy. Of course, I could be wrong. But how often does that happen?

I don’t have many regrets in life. I’ve never climbed a mountain, but I’ve seen people doing it on TV. I have stopped to smell the roses. They smell awful. I haven’t dedicated myself to a life of serving others, but I have dedicated my life to serving myself, and I am “others” to other people. So that’s good.

However, there is one thing I have come to regret recently (yesterday, to be exact). I haven’t spent nearly enough time thanking former Senator Rick Santorum.

When I truly introspect, there are reasons (OK, more like excuses) I haven’t thanked Rick more. I mean, sure most of the stuff he stands for, on a scale of 1-100, 100 being the most evil, lands at about 345. But I’m not sure even that’s really fair.

For example, I used to think it was horrific of him to compare loving, monogamous gay relations to “man on dog.” But then I found out that Rick refers to welfare spending as “man on bison” and teaching evolution to “man on unevolved monkey” and gun control as “man on dude without a gun” and tax increases as “man on Grover Nordquist”, which is actually quite disturbing. Rick just likes the whole “man on…” meme.

What made me really want to thank Rick yesterday was his most honest, righteous and true statement on Governor Corbett’s scheme to rig future presidential elections by apportioning electoral votes by congressional district. First a little background:

Corbett’s scheme is designed to ensure that his party always gets the majority of Pennsylvania’s electoral votes. You see, Democrats have won PA the last 5 presidential elections. But Governor Corbett has brilliantly figured out the Democrat’s dastardly and dishonest method of winning. They get more votes. (I told you it was shocking)

People in parts of the state that tend to vote Democratic sometimes out-vote those parts of the state that tend to vote Republican. Having more votes, they then claim that they should win the election. I think you see the problem here. This makes Republicans who voted for the losing candidate sad. And Corbett wishes to change the rules so as to reduce such sadness. “Turn that frown upside down!!!” he says. We shall guarantee that you win, and are not forced to come in second simply because you got fewer votes.

I would note parenthetically that when the people from places which tend to vote Republican out-vote those that vote Democratic and, say…elect Corbett Governor: that’s fine!! His people are happy! And the people in Philadelphia who lose? Their sadness seems to trouble Governor Corbett less. Sadness at losing an election is just different in Venango County than it is in Philly.

In any event, Governor Corbett’s plan is essentially affirmative action for Republican electors. Even if their candidate loses the state by 10 points, they are still guaranteed a 12-8 victory in the electoral college. But Governor Corbett claims “this is not about Republicans and Democrats” and “I’m not thinking about who will benefit”.

Of course, it just so happens that his plan benefits his party’s presidential candidates. Apparently Governor Corbett was utterly oblivious to this. He may not know yet, so please ask him to sit down if you plan to tell him. The shock might cause him to get the vapors.

I can relate. Once I was playing a chess tournament (reason #277 why I didn’t get a date in high school) and I was losing. So I thought I’d light my opponent’s hair on fire, just to lighten the mood, and then smash the chess board with a mallet. I had no idea that his forfeiture of the game followed by his months-long hospitalization would benefit me. Sometimes you are just lucky that way.

Anyway, back to Rick. Yesterday he was in Harrisburg when a reporter asked him if he supported the governor’s electoral-college scheme. “I sure do!” he said,  “The current system is kind of like man-on-Himalayan Bog Turtle…” Then he went on to say what everyone in the world already knows:

“Certainly, from the standpoint of a Republican, it’s a winner,” Santorum said. “Republicans will come out ahead in Pennsylvania in every election. The way Democrats win, they have two big cities with huge concentrations of voters — and then overwhelm the rest of the state.”
{This can be found at www.politicspa.com}

Let’s examine this a bit. Rick’s reason for supporting this scheme is laid out right there. It will be a “winner” from the stand-point of the Republican Party, which is clearly the basis on which we should be writing the rules of elections. In fact, Rick observes, “Republicans will come out ahead in Pennsylvania in every {Presidential} election”. There it is. The entire purpose behind this proposal.

It is interesting that Rick would support the bill for this reason. He spends a lot of time with the tea-party folks who wear their colonial garb and talk about their love of the founders and our beautiful system of democracy. I don’t recall Jefferson and Madison and Adams talking a lot about rigging elections so the outcome is preordained.

Although, in fairness, if you go back to the original hand-written source materials for the federalist papers, you’ll see that whereas it has commonly thought that Thomas Jefferson wrote about “preserving the Republic,” it was actually “preserving the Republicans.”

So now we know the truth, and the truth shall set us free. We can only wonder when Tom Corbett will level with the people of Pennsylvania. In the meantime, thank you, Rick Santorum. Thank you.

Daylin

~Daylin

To the Editors:

Last Sunday’s Inquirer contained an editorial by Lt. Governor Jim Cawley that argued against taxing Marcellus Shale extraction in Pennsylvania. As a strong proponent of imposing such a tax, I would like to point out some flaws in Mr. Cawley’s argument

Mr. Cawley argues that imposing any extraction tax would “deter” drilling in Pennsylvania and compel the industry to “leave” Pennsylvania. He cites Alberta, Canada as an example of a place that imposed a tax causing drilling there to be put “on hold.” With all due respect, none of this is true.

First, even in Alberta, things are not as Mr. Cawley portrays them. The Duvernay Shale deposit there is in the embryonic exploratory stage. There are no active commercial wells, although energy companies have been spending billions on land for years, uninterrupted. Mr. Cawleys assertion that companies in Alberta  put shale development “on hold” is simply not true. It never happened

That said, it is odd that Mr. Cawley goes to a different country to find support for his position. There are 33 states in this country with active shale deposits. 31 of them impose a tax. I suspect that the reason Mr. Cawley felt compelled to look abroad is because every single state in this country with a tax also has a booming shale industry.

In fact, the states with the most natural gas production have among the highest tax rates, with Texas, Oklahoma and Wyoming imposing a tax averaging over 7% of the value of gas produced. Conservative Governors Sarah Palin and Rick Perry both signed an extraction tax bill for their states. There is very little support for Mr. Cawley’s position anywhere on the ideological spectrum.

The reality is that the shale industry is not going anywhere. There are billions of dollars to be made on natural gas that the drillers can only get in Pennsylvania. Further, there is nowhere for them to go, since virtually every other state with a deposit already imposes a tax. We have many things to worry about in Pennsylvania. The drilling industry leaving our state before every bit of natural gas has been extracted is not one of them.

Mr. Cawley argues that ANY tax would be “punitive” (although how is never explained) and that “taxes deter business and job growth.” That is not an argument against taxing Marcellus Shale. That is an argument against taxing anything, ever. Refusing to charge out-of-state companies to take our resources out of our ground isn’t about keeping an industry here. This is about the Corbett administration’s theological objection to taxes in general, regardless of Pennsylvania’s educational, environmental or infrastructure needs.

Senator Daylin Leach
17th District

Governor Corbett really likes Commissions. In his short tenure he has appointed several to deal with issues such as Transportation, Marcellus Shale, the role of Government and whether to change his name from Tom Corbett to Lola LaFontaine (recommendation? No in the short and medium term).

Commissions can be very useful, particularly if you, like Governor Corbett, stack them with people who are already committed to recommending what you have already decided to do. For example, the Marcellus Shale Commission was composed largely of administration officials, energy executives and advocates from groups like “People for a More Noxious Tomorrow.”

I adopted a similar strategy recently when I had a dispute with my friend Walter. We were having a fight over which one of us is the bigger Dufus (it is a fight we frequently have). So I appointed a Commission to explore the matter composed of me, my mom, and 3 dudes who owe me money. Oddly, the Commission still found that I was the bigger Dufus (the evidence was compelling).

I am particularly intrigued by his new commission on privatization. The purpose of this commission is to find the “core functions” of government and to privatize everything else. I worry that the Commission will find that there are no core functions of government, particularly since the Chair of the Commission is also the President of the “There Are No Core Functions of Government” Foundation.

But I always try to be a “when-in-Rome” kind of guy. So I have a suggestion for the new Commission on something we can privatize, Lets privatize the legislature!!!

I know what some of you are thinking; Isn’t making laws a core function of government? Well that’s the sort of loathsome Socialist monkey-crap I’ve come to expect from your type (howdy mom!). Since the private sector does everything better, wouldn’t it obviously do a better job at making laws? Here’s how it would work:

We could keep the same number of seats we currently have in both the House and the Senate. But instead of electing people to fill those seats, we’d sell them, to the highest bidders. To be fair, the poor would have the same chance as corporate CEOs to bid for these seats.

This would have two huge advantages over the current system. First, we could then use the money raised by selling the seats to plough back into tax-breaks for the corporations that bought the seats in the first place. See, its Win-Win (a big “win” for the corporation. I’m still working on who the other “winner” is). Second, if we know that a particular seat was bought by Conoco Energy, it would save lobbyists time in unnecessary persuasion.

We could also make money selling naming rights. Plus, think of the added cache our legislative chambers would have with the right branding. I think we all agree that the term “House of Representatives” is a bit stuffy. But the tourists would flock to, say “Keebler’s Law-a-Pallooza“. The Senate could be ‘Exxon-Ville” and the decor could be changed slightly from a Roman theme to more of a Fossil-Fuel Extraction motiff.

Think of the money we could raise (and give away to billionaires) if we could name the capitol building itself the “Cialis Center“. We could install adjacent bathtubs in the rotunda with sculptures of Ben Franklin and William Penn sitting in tubs next to each other looking pleased that their state was thriving, and that their genitals were working as intended.

In fact, our tax-pledge friend Grover Nordquist once said he wanted to “shrink government to the size where he could drown it in a bathrub.” He could use one of our Cialis tubs to do that, although he would have to work around a pharmacalogically aroused Ben Franklin.

Look, some people say our government is for sale already as big campaign contributions beget even bigger tax-breaks and subsidies to people who don’t actually need them. Why not just embrace that? What has democracy given us other than a social safety-net, clean air and some really annoying regulations about sending 6 year olds into sulfer mines?

A private legislature, on the other hand, could give us what Pennsylvania really needs; blue-light specials on school funding and 2-1 deals on tax cuts. Instead of passing resolutions about Diabetes Week or recognizing some soft-ball team, we could pass resolutions honoring “The People who Own Us“. And to think, people claim I don’t do enough to support the private sector.

Love Daylin

-Governor Tom Corbett-

Yesterday we passed a budget. It’s kind of like passing a kidney stone, only more painful. (And I say that as someone who just had his first kidney stone, the story of which is forthcoming in a future BLOG called “Kidney-Copia!”, complete with links to Youtube and a gift shop).

This budget was particularly painful, unless of course you were a wealthy energy executive or wealthy contributor to Governor Corbett’s campaign, in which case it was still painful, if you define pain as “getting lots and lots of money and being asked to contribute nothing.” Education, health care, poor people, the environment all took a huge hit. Why? Because, as Governor Corbett said, we were living within our means and acting like a family does. And presumably this doesn’t mean the Manson Family, although that would help things make more sense.

But is that really true? Is this lots-of-cuts-but-no-new-revenues policy really consistent with what a family does? As I understand the Corbett philosophy, this is how he would advise a breadwinner to address his family in tough times.

Daddy

Gather round family. I have some bad news for you.

Son

Do we have to shoot the cat again?

Daddy

No son, worse. Times are tough. We all have to tighten our belts.

Daughter

But Daddy, your belt seems to tighten on its own.

Daddy

It’s a metaphor, little girl. The point is, we have to cut back. So from now on, we’re down to two meals per day. No new clothes, no more piano lessons.

Son

But we don’t take piano lessons.

Daddy

Hush!! Plus, no more tutoring, and son, don’t suck on that asthma inhaler to hard, cause you’re not getting another one. Oh, and we’re going to have to shoot the cat. Again.

Son

But you said we wouldn’t have to shoot Fluffles!

Daddy

That was another metaphor, Son. But I want to make you a solemn promise. The one thing we will never do is accept any new income into this house.

Wife

No more income?

Daddy

That’s right dear. I give you my word of honor, that I will not ask for a raise, I will not work more hours, I will not get a second job, and if I find money on the street, I will not spend it on this family. I promise

Wife

But wouldn’t it be better to have some additional income than to stop feeding the kids?

Daddy

Only if you are a Socialist and hate America dear. Now where is that damn cat?

Of course all of this is ridiculous (except the cat part). Any family facing tough choices would seek new income. Further, most families go into debt to live in their own home or send their kids to college. Some things are worth investing in. That’s why, while Grover Norquist’s “No-Tax Pledge” has enticed some politicians to sign, his “No-New-Income Pledge” for families has been less successful, as has his “No-New-Oxygen Pledge” for deep sea divers. Sometimes you simply need resources to make your life work. Most families understand that, and would be confused by Governor Corbett’s unbreakable promise to deny our state the resources to function.

Daylin