“Newt Gingrich’s top campaign aides resigned en masse today, POLITICO has learned. Campaign manager Rob Johnson, strategists Sam Dawson and Dave Carney, spokesman Rick Tyler, and consultants Katon Dawson in South Carolina and Craig Schoenfeld in Iowa have all quit to protest what two officials called their ‘different vision’ for the campaign.” [via SFL]

Everyone’s handsome uncle, Mitt Romney, is saying things that are getting him in trouble, because he is again giving credence to “theories” based on “fact” and “evidence.” That’s right, Romney said:

I believe the world’s getting warmer

And, wait for it:

I believe that humans contribute to that.

In case any of you forgot that Romney used to live in Massachusetts, where driving cars is banned and I personally have served on several death panels (So Fun, Guys!), you can now go on and remember that again. Which is what Rush Limbaugh did, and then he decided:

Bye-bye, nomination . . . The last year has established that the whole premise of man-made global warming is a hoax, and we still have presidential candidates that want to buy into it. Read more »

Leona Helmsley’s pampered Maltese ‘Trouble,’ one of the world’s richest dogs, dies at age 12 [Daily News]

We feared we would have to Go Long On Weiner this morning, patiently explaining that it’s not the non-crime, it’s the non-criminal cover-up — “Weinergate”, indeed — and that whatever you might think about, say, hypocritical Republican calls for Weiner to resign while David Vitter still walks the Senate, the fact is, Weiner has become a national punchline (nice touch with the Bulging-Weiner-Briefs Dunking Mascot, Conan) and is a strategic liability, whose usefulness for any cause he espouses effectively ended at his confessional press conference Monday afternoon.

And then we saw this video and decided we could use a break.

Texas cinema texter becomes foul-mouthed movie star [The Register, via Sully]

If I see one more hot dog, I’m going to hurl. Time for a late night musical palate cleanser.

Sweet 8 pound 7 ounce baby Jesus, Lyle Lovett and John Hiatt can each play a guitar like there’s no tomorrow. Put them together and it’s magical. If their acoustic tour is coming to your town, run – don’t walk – to get tickets. The show is two incredibly talented and funny musicians with deep songwriting abilities sitting on stage with nothing but their wits and their guitars, chatting, jamming, picking the hell out of their guitars, and singing back up vocals on each other’s songs.

Most of the videos on the tubes of them are of crappy quality, so here is a clip from the Beeb of them playing to the Brits, with Joe Ely joining in. This doesn’t capture the improvisation they do in concert:

While it’s no doubt true that there’s nothing quite like a nice throbbing nine-incher, as I’m sure we can all agree, all this talk of sticky unreasoning insatiable rampant hardness could make one think that’s all there is to manhood: of course, nothing could be further from the truth.

Naturally, as a young lad, one was thrilled to discover one’s john-willy could go up and down and rushed at once to show mummy. And yes, over the years one has come across chaps who’ve taught theirs to carry out some pretty amazing and useful tasks: flip pancakes and imitate Shirley Bassey are just two that spring to mind. But there comes a time when we need to let go and realize there is more to life than playing with one’s erector set.

Which brings me to sissies.

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We really did plan on addressing this earlier, but as we wrote the Morning Blather, it developed just as presented. But thank God there’s fresh dirt to report.

And so, maestro, strike up the tympani!

Michele Bachmann’s new political chief Ed Rollins, Tuesday:

“Sarah has not been serious over the last couple of years. She got the Vice Presidential thing handed to her, she didn’t go to work in the sense of trying to gain more substance, she gave up her governorship.”

Ed Rollins, this morning:

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