Being from the state of Kentucky, you get pretty used to being the butt end of tired jokes. Whether it’s one of those uproarious “marrying your cousin” numbers needlessly tacked onto the end of an Alicia Silverstone movie or the classic “rides your horse to school” bit from some drunken Long Island-bred friend, the hits keep coming. And coming. And coming. Ironies be damned.

It happens so much that at some point you become inured and stop being appalled and hurt, at least outwardly. Whether it’s through attrition or ambivalence, you learn to chuckle it off with a knowing “Yeah, we’re pretty hilarious” and move on, forgoing outrage and internalizing the slight instead. Healthy? Probably not. It is what it is.

It is true that Kentuckians are generally, by nature, thin-skinned with long memories. That’s the feeling I came across most while working for my uncle’s GOP primary campaign last spring. As part of my duties, I did outreach among party activists, and seeing first-hand the hardcore Tea Party enthusiasts in action was illuminating. Their sense of outrage at perceived slights, and their coalescence around ciphers of outsider representation, seemed to jibe with what I have always considered a thread of mistrust woven deep into Kentucky’s social fabric.

Maybe it’s that negative popular image we’re so often reminded of that keeps us stewing or perhaps it’s something bigger-a sense of being outside culture’s good graces in a border state possessing neither Northern industriousness nor Southern antebellum gentility. In Kentucky, you’re in an indefinable kind of soft purgatory. Hell, our most famous folks are an arthritic chicken hawker and Florence Henderson, and possibly not in that order.

Such defensiveness has roots in the state’s class makeup, to be sure. Principally rural outside of two mid-size metropolitan areas, Kentucky long ago more or less abandoned Jeffersonian ideals of agrarian democracy. In its place was born a hard-edged tensile strength, epitomized by Abraham Lincoln’s log cabin upbringing. (Before Illinois stole him).

Kentucky used to-and in most corners of the state still proudly does-consider itself rough-hewn frontier country. Colonially an extension of Virginia, it was originally inhabited mostly by the intrepid and the damned, those restless souls who sought fortune or anonymity among its bountiful poplars and fertile soil.

But bolder pioneers kept moving west in search of riches, and the more industrious fled north to growing cities along the Ohio River and up to Chicago. Those who remained settled in for the long haul, for better and worse. As a result, what evolved was a proud people, girded by personal strength in the face of adversity, closely tied to a raw spirit of individuality and fiercely protective of their hard-earned freedom from the meddling intrusion of outsiders; in short, the kind of people you might expect to find in a mostly rural, often poor, landlocked region.

This is projection. But that zeitgeist, that preternatural urge for self-preservation and a natural distrust of the other, posits itself still among the Bluegrass masses, from its politics to its beloved basketball prowess.

From this came much of the support I witnessed last spring for Rand Paul. While our campaign courted Tea Party support and grassroots help, I was taken by the palpable excitement I found among Paul’s base. Merely appearing with Paul was juice to the electorate, and name-dropping him was voter enthusiasm manna.

Wiseacre liberals-and plenty of curious Republicans-across the country are enthralled by the exploits of this stiff ophthalmologist and legacy anti-politician bent on taking on the establishment, even within his own party. Simultaneously engrossed and outraged by his off-the-cuff neo-Libertarian ramblings, political watchers have taken to the story of the first-time candidate like few others this election season. Much of it seems a fascination akin to bird watching (“Look, honey, ridiculous plumage! And now he’s dancing!”).

But if the national press and the news-hungry have latched onto the more preposterous elements of Paul’s story-to wit, GQ’s recent kidnapping and idol-worshipping allegations-then most Kentuckians appear to have accepted Paul’s campaign as legitimate enough.

How else to explain his rump-kicking of the state’s hand-picked GOP successor in last May’s primary?

The son of a politician, Paul doesn’t hail from Kentucky originally. He settled there with his wife, a Bluegrass native, about 20 years back. What, then, about Paul is inherently Kentuckian is a bit tougher to say. But it isn’t a stretch to examine his lasting appeal in a state that, like the nominally Republican Rand Paul, exists forever “not quite”-neither flyover Midwest nor Deep South, neither Rust Belt nor Eastern establishment.

Bearing the state’s aforementioned history in mind is instructional when looking at the so-far success of Paul’s candidacy for U.S. Senate. In a state where registered Democrats outnumber Republicans mightily (despite recent trend of right-wing presidential winners there), it’s not surprising that it’s the state’s Republicans and Independents who most reflect the “us against the world” vibe. You’re looking at the skeptical and often insecure core of an already wary populace. No wonder, then, that Paul’s brand of Libertarianism plays well in these pockets.

This is not to dismiss those who find kinship with the substance of his governing philosophy (in that there is any governance in it). A hands-off, regulatory-free government fits the Kentucky mold neatly, appealing to the defensive and the free in equal measure, be they gun-toting or bong-loading.

But mostly, it’s been Paul’s shrewd use of the perception that they are all out to get him, and, by proxy, the citizens he represents, that has resonated. Ask many of his less dogmatic advocates for his policy positions and beyond a general “smaller government” theme, you’re more likely to get a diatribe on the media and governing elite rather than an exegesis of his tax proposals.

Fitting, then, that when cornered on the GQ allegations, Paul told FOX News, “I think they deserve a lawsuit. The problem is, in our country they make it almost impossible for politicians to win anything… we used to have journalistic ethics in this country… it’s so ridiculous I don’t know where to start.”

No one ever lost a vote in Kentucky for smacking “the media.” While Paul is certainly not the first to do it, he’s mastered the art in short order.

Another example surrounded a comment Paul made to Details magazine, much reproduced, that, “The bottom line is: I’m not an expert, so don’t give me the power in Washington to be making rules.”

At face value, it pretty clearly seems a ridiculous thing for anyone running for national office to say. However, examined in context, the quote was touching on a larger philosophy, one that has garnered him much of his hardcore support in his campaign. That is, if it’s not something that concerns you directly, then why are you so hell bent on regulating it?

Taken to a further end, it’s a representation of the height of outsider condescension. More simply: ‘Us vs. Them.’

But beyond his campaign’s “populist outrage,” Paul’s popularity has morphed into something of a personal crusade. Despite his many missteps and the big-foot punditry’s assumption that Paul would be exposed as the political neophyte he is, he’s still up in the polls. And every time a Rachel Maddow or Maureen Dowd lobs another poison-dipped pretension arrow at him, his fundraising numbers skyrocket.

Were it a simplistic Palin-esque folksiness, it might be easier to explain away. But like many Kentuckians past and present, quietly toiling amid the ancient mountain hollers and flat-as-a-board limestone plateaus that make up much of the state, Rand is smarter than he comes across. Like those he hopes to represent, he’s hesitant to reveal the breadth of his intelligence lest it be taken as bragging (or in his case misread by today’s electorate as being, God forbid, genuinely thoughtful).

But while possibly good campaign strategy, this reticence causes him trouble, since when he does decide to swan dive into ideological waters, he more often belly flops, appearing overly flippant or cerebral about topics of real import to real people. This is what befell Paul during his disastrous Maddow appearance in which he opened the door to re-examining the 1964 Civil Rights Act.

As policy, this would appear a heartless, borderline racist endeavor, given the sacrosanct nature of the Act and its legacy for huge swaths of the American populace. But what Paul was doing, in addition to tossing out rhetorical candy to his people, was getting theoretical in a cable news interview, something more seasoned politicians know they should not do.

And yet, while the feeding frenzy on the Sunday talk shows and chatter at the white wine brunches in Prospect Park might appear to inflict irreparable damage on candidate Paul, back home he continues on his merry way, greeting an increasing horde of well-wishers-principally independents and disgruntled Republicans finding in Paul’s emergence their own brand of “Change We Can Believe In.”

It’s all a bit schizophrenic, and I’d be hesitant to credit some balding political operative with creating it whole cloth, but it’s working for him right now. If these are pieces adding up to a mythology around what is, ostensibly, a politically nerdy and overly paranoid ophthalmologist from a sleepy country town in one of the least populous states in America, then it’s a little nugget of organic political beauty. Can you even name his Democratic opponent?

Whether such an erratic and ill-defined candidacy can carry Rand Paul first over the finish line remains to be seen. For now, those of us in the Bluegrass Diaspora will be forgiven if we offer a knowing shrug as we watch an adopted son suffer the slings and arrows of a smugly baffled political elite, all while outsidering his way to the anteroom of Washington’s most hallowed halls.

JL Weill lives in DC. He has, on multiple occasions, seen Donald Rumsfeld ordering coffee. His excursions in politics and culture take place at TheNewDeterrence.com.

Top photo by Gage Skidmore from Flickr.
Bottom photo by Rand Paul for Senate from Flickr.

by Jordan Carr

39. “three blocks from the Ground Zero site in New York” — John Nichols

38. “two blocks from the site where nearly 3,000 Americans were killed by Islamist terrorists on 9/11” — John McCormack

37. “2–3 blocks from World Trade Center” — Yahoo! Answers

36. “mere blocks from the site of worst terrorist attack in U.S. history” — Daniel Halper

35. “two blocks away from where our magnificent towers crashed and burned, easy wafting distance for the Islamic call to prayer” — Diana West

34. “two blocks from Ground Zero” — Sister Toldjah

33.”two blocks from the site of a mass murder committed in the name of Islam” — Ross Douthat

32. “at the doorstep of a site where terrorists invoking the name of Islam killed 3,000 Americans” — Wall Street Journal editorial

31. “so close to the site of the World Trade Center” — Stephen Schwartz

30. “at the site of their most bloody victory” — Debra Burlingame

29. “on the ash-strewn site of 3,000 dead Americans

“ — Jennifer Rubin

28. “next to the site where 3,000 innocent people were murdered at the hands of Islamic extremism” — Marco Rubio

27. “overlooking the site where radical Islamists killed almost 3,000 people in a shocking act of hatred” — Newt Gingrich

26. “next to the site of the worst of the 9/11 strikes” — Andy McCarthy

25. “near this site of reverence and respect for lost loved ones from the attack” — David Vitter

24. “in the site where 3,000 Americans lost their lives as the result of a terrorist attack” — John Cornyn

23. “on that particular site” — Michael Goodwin

22. “so close to the site of a horrific, history-changing act of Islamic terrorism” — Rich Lowry

21. “600 feet from the site of ground zero” — Jeffrey Kuhner

20. “600 feet from Ground Zero” — Dorothy Rabinowitz

19. “right at ground zero” — Rudy Giuliani

18. “at ground zero” — Douglas Murray

17. “on hallowed ground zero” — Pamela Geller

16. “so close to Ground Zero” — Claudia Rosett

15. “over Ground Zero” — Andrea Peyser

14. “ at Ground Zero” — Sharron Angle

13. “at Ground Zero” — Sarah Palin

12. “next to Ground Zero” — Bill Kristol

11. “In the shadow of the World Trade Center” — Abe Foxman

10. “in what would have been the shadows of the Twin Towers” — Rod Dreher

9. “near where the Twin Towers collapsed” — Clifford May

8. “at a place where Islamic terrorists killed more than 2,700 innocent people” — William McGurn

7. “next to the spot where 2,700 people were killed in Islam’s name” — Christopher Caldwell

6. “steps away from where radical Islamists killed 3000 people” — Sarah Palin

5. “on the boundary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks” — David Harsanyi

4. “in proximity to the scene of the worst act of Islamic terrorism — and the worst act of political violence — ever committed on U.S. soil” — National Review editorial

3. “just a stone’s throw away from 9/11’s sacred ground”- Sarah Palin

2. “at the epicentre of the worst-ever attack on the U.S” — Raheel Raza and Tarek Fatah

1. “there” — Barack Obama

RELATED: A Brief Tour Of Defenseless Ground Zero

[Image via]

In a case testing the limits of the second amendment, state authorities in New Jersey are trying to revoke the firearms license held by Rockaway Township resident Steven Hopler. Hopler, 47, was found to be keeping some 16 guns strewn around his house on bookshelves, under seat cushions and in an oven mitt. Many of them were loaded, which prosecutors says presented a danger to public safety. ‘’Most fair-minded persons viewing the photographs of how the weapons were stored might even shudder,” said judge Thomas V. Manahan, who will decide the case on Thursday, “thinking of the propensity for danger.’’ Hopler, who happens to be blind, shot himself in the leg two years ago while cleaning one of his guns. As reported by the Asbury Park Press, his attorney Gregg Trautmann argued that, “his client keeps multiple guns in handy locations because he wouldn’t be able to run from room to room to find one if an intruder came in or his life was threatened.” Seems like that might actually help the prosecution’s case. But we’ll see.

Although I loved the movies in my childhood, I have long since forgotten them and am in no way any sort of Star Wars fan, let alone collector. That said, I am an extremely hairy man, so I’ve got to admit it: There’s something about this clear plastic Chewbacca wine stopper that speaks to me. It’s like looking in a mirror! The only problem I foresee is when the hell have I ever had a bottle of unfinished wine? The thing would just gather dust. Still, maybe you know someone who would enjoy it. [Via]

The “People of Walmart” book, based on the website (I’m sure you can Google it), is out in just a couple weeks! That’s right! “Featuring 200 photographs and captions, 70 percent of this book HAS NEVER BEEN SEEN UNTIL NOW, plus fan-submitted stories of their most random experiences”! Hot! 200 photographs (with captions) with the mocking of fat and poor and crazy people on every page. America! This is what makes it so great, that we can all find a way for someone to profit off other people’s need to feel better than other people. I don’t think of myself as someone with a very thin skin, but man, this project still rubs me the wrong way, even if/because they’re “equal opportunity offenders.” Anyway the book’s going to make a fortune, because everybody is poor even while hating poor people now. Or, hmm, I guess maybe the flaw in that is that no one will have the money to buy it. $12.99, trade paper, coming to wherever books are sold, except probably Walmart!

Now you know how the art department works: take a local trivia host who’s fond of a tacky jacket-Noah Tarnow of the Big Quiz Thing-and paste Steven Slater’s head onto his body and ta da, TMZ graphic. Let’s hear it for transformative use… I guess!

by Ben Cohen

38. Gee Gee Greene

37. Roddy Maginot

36. Jacquizz Rodgers

35. Justin Cabbagestalk

34. Rantavious Wooten

33. Bacarri Rambo

32. Ferbia Allen

31. Justice Cunningham

30. Storm Johnson

29. LeCount Fantroy

28. Hans Rice, II

27. Avionne Rolle

26. Tavious Polo

25. Dwight Dasher

24. Chizzy Dimude

23. Princeton McCarty

22. Shiloh Keo

21. Dominique Hunsucker

20. Lebron Daniel

19. Storm Klein

18. Caleb TerBush

17. Stephen Ruempolhamer

16. Faron Klingelhoefer

15. Foswhitt Whittaker

14. Camerron Cheatham

13. Obadiah Cheatham

12. Sabbath Joseph

11. Dustin Lineback

10. Radermon Scypion

9. Cobrani Mixon

8. Ishmaa’ily Kitchen

7. Mister Alexander

6. Wale Lawal Jr.

5. Dey Juan Hemmings

4. Demetrius Barksdale

3. Bryson Littlejohn

2. Bernard Wolfgramm

1. Yourhighness Morgan

RELATED: 68 Fantastic British Names Gathered While Watching BBC Credits Over the Years
50 Names of Actual People Who Plan to Attend the Dorrian’s 50th Anniversary Festivities

Ben Cohen writes for Deadspin and the Wall Street Journal. He would not have noted his own name.

By their greasepads ye shall know them:

In ‘Smudge Attacks on Smartphone Touch Screens’-which must have been more fun to name than to write-University of Pennsylvania researchers tested how easily passwords could be extracted from an Android touchscreen using a variety of methods. The answer: very, very easy. Your oily fingers leave a trace so distinct that partial passcodes were, in one set of experiments, identifiable 92% of the time.

There’s a total fingering joke in here, right?

“We have to make sure the facilities are shared out evenly and this seems like a fair way to stop people grabbing a bench at dawn and staying there all day.”
-An official at the Yantai Park in Shangdong province, eastern China, discusses the new method to prevent bench-hogging: sharp steel spikes, which emerge from the benches each time a coin-operated meter expires.

Krishnan Guru-Murthy, of Channel 4’s Snowmail, writes: “In a masterstroke of PR, two weeks before his book goes on sale, Tony Blair has said he will donate all his personal profits from the book, including a reported £4.6 million advance, to the Royal British Legion — to fund a special centre to help injured troops. This means no matter what your opinion of Blair — whether you think he is a raving war criminal who should spend the rest of his days rebuilding Iraqi roads that have been blown up by roadside bombs, or if you believe he was one of the greatest and most principled prime ministers Britain has ever had — you can now buy the book free of any notion that you are putting money into anyone’s hands but his publishers, agents, book stores and the tax man — and now a charity for injured British troops.” Well, yes, those are two ways of looking at it.