You guys, we are starting to worry about the Mitt Romney campaign. They seem to be getting a little paranoid, like they’ve maybe read one too many email forwards from Glenn Beck. The event was a double-secret press conference at the solar energy company Solyndra — “double-secret,” obviously, because if the President’s vast army of drones found out about it, they would be surrounded by black UN helicopters and herded onto FEMA trains.
The Thursday visit was kept a tight secret by the Romney campaign, which told reporters they needed to travel in a campaign bus to an undisclosed location.
A Romney adviser said the campaign had concealed the event location for fear the Obama administration would somehow prevent them from staging it. [...]
Really, Romney advisor? Like how? Maybe they would have some of their staffers show up and blow bubbles and vuvuzelas in a big Brooks Brothers/Burning Man party? Oh haha no, that is what you did yesterday! So is it something more sinister? (It is something more sinister!)
During his news conference, Romney alluded to protests organized by Democratic activists that have disrupted several previous campaign events, and said his campaign had wanted to head off any efforts by his rivals to keep him from speaking.
OH RIGHT. You were afraid black people would show up and call Romney “garbage.” But of course if you said you were afraid of protesters, that would sound silly. So it is much better to be afraid that the President himself is out to get you, using his network of flying monkeys and city zoning boards to deny you your basic right to hold a press conference. Tell us more, TPM:
Reporters raised the question of how this devious plot to derail the event would work, given that the freedom to hold a press conference in public is a fairly basic right.
“Well, he’s only the president of the United States,” the adviser replied. “I mean, they could work with town officials to deny us access.”
#Fail, Romney advisor. You can either own up to being afraid of blahs and Bay Area hippies, or you can sound like Nixon’s Ghost on a Bender. Nobody liked drunk, paranoid, End of Days Nixon, wandering the East Wing hallways muttering about enemies and Jews.