Some days, it is simply too weird out there to rise up from the mattress. Today’s the day.
Whodaya reckon will be the next U.S. Senate candidate to surface in Minnesota? Turns out it could be almost anyone! Booyah!
Recap: A few weeks ago, retired pro wrestler and former Minnesota governor, Jesse Ventura and his buddy, Dean Barkley, headed out to the links to determine which of them would run for the U.S. Senate. Ventura lost the golf match, or so the story goes, and thus he became the designated weird one (a role to which he is accustomed).
In some ways, this makes about as much sense as the more conventional selection process (walking caucuses and candidates selected by a slim minority of the population). Maybe this is a model for the future. Think Hillary, Obama and bowling. There's more, there's more!>
In any case, last night, after weeks of breathless speculation, Ventura announced on the Larry King show that he will not be running for Norm Coleman’s Senate seat after all. Well, what he said was, “I am not going to run at this moment….It’ll take an act of God to do it.” Oh, lord, you wouldn't, would you?
Meanwhile, in a nifty bit of tag-team timing, Dean Barkley announced this very morning that he will now enter the race. Why do I suspect these guys are messing with Minnesota minds to extract some kind of weird vengeance? I suppose it would be unkind to mention that Ventura is pimping his latest book.
Anyway, Barkley has a short list of his own failed runs for political office. He did chair Ventura’s winning gubernatorial campaign. Most recently, Barkley ran Kinky Friedman’s prat fall in Texas. It seems Barkley trends to the preternaturally peculiar.
It also seems we have entered silly season in Minnesota politics. Priscilla Lord Faris has decided to run against Franken in a primary (which will cost her and Minnesotans a boatload of money that could have gone to securing a Dem win). Ventura/Barkley, the two-headed beastie, is poised to run. And I have it on good authority that next up will be Harold Stassen (I know – it doesn’t matter), perpetual bridesmaid Mike Ciresi, and Wendell Anderson’s walleye.