Cory Booker and his Hollywood Knights

I thought the 17^th Amendment provides for voters the right  to directly elect  U.S. senators, eliminating the influence peddlers of state legislatures deciding on candidates and ultimately winning candidates. But in the NJ Senate race between Cory Booker and Steve Lonegan one would think that the voters of New Jersey have abrogated   their constitutional right and ceded it to the Hollywood glitterati. Where once the deals were made in smoke filled rooms in convention halls, they’re now made in the most well appointed parcels of California.

We know that vast amounts of money have been amassed for Booker’s run. The only thing left  for the obliging Oblivicrats is to march robotically to the polls and cast their ballots. Hopefully just one ballot. But, this is New Jersey, so you never really know.

While Steve Lonegan continues stumping the state talking about issues in his uphill fight,  Mr. Booker continues to relish  his role as a Hollywood A-lister, flashing his ubiquitous chicklet-like, toothy grin, partying with the likes of Matt Damon and Ben Affleck. You would hope that with the doggerel coming out of Hollywood these days that these two reputable and highly paid actor/directors would  be devoting more time providing quality entertainment instead of massaging the ego of the liberal left ‘s newest superstar. And while they’re massaging how about throwing in a manicure and pedicure to make the mayor feel right at home.

Perhaps Mayor Booker is pitching ideas. It being tinsel town. How  about a story of an upstart mayor of a decaying northeast city where unemployment is off the charts and  crime is running rampant: shootings, rapes, car jackings,  muggings. And for a bit of conflict how about having the mayor appear apathetic and unavailable. This might be a stretch  for Matt and Ben, but the mayor, on the basis of his non-existent record of improvement, decides on a run for higher office. Add a little more texture to his character. Make him disrespectful by announcing his intentions to run for this office before the  ailing incumbent, a tireless worker  for his constituency,  has a chance to decide what his plans are. Put him at odds  with his own city council. Make him arrogant, elitist. But then he sees the light and with the help of some imaginary friends  becomes a super hero of sorts, rising to the level of mediocrity. Too far fetched?  Well, the good mayor is in the land of make believe where chicken excrement can be made to look like chicken salad or braised tofu.