As the killer was led from the courtroom last week, there was no epic roar of outrage from the gallery. As he shuffled down the hallway, only a few reporters made halfhearted attempts to glean some insight. As he stumbled (hindered by the back brace he wears), there were shrieks of neither comfort nor condemnation. There were no media outside on the courthouse steps to cover the massive crowds which had gathered to shout their disapproval at this terrible miscarriage of justice; truth be told, there was no massive crowd. The corporate media at the national level barely noticed the story, and mentions were passing at best.
So the killer goes to prison; and we all go on with the rest of our lives.
It has been two years since Jerome Ersland killed Antwun “Speedy” Parker. Now Ersland, having been found guilty of the charge of murder in the first degree, will spend the rest of his life behind bars. Suppress your urge to celebrate. Ersland isn’t some predatory monster, trolling the vast fields of innocent victims for a blood fix. He isn’t cracked-out vermin, blazing into some convenience store and leaving a pile of bodies in return for $50 and a six-pack. Ersland is a disabled war veteran who worked at the Reliable Pharmacy in Oklahoma City, Okla. A somewhat pudgy 59-year-old who would elicit nary a second glance from most of us, Ersland is hardly the stuff of crime stories, special reports and courtroom dramas.
On May 19, 2009, Ersland went from unassuming pharmacist to killer. Just before 6 p.m., 16-year-old Antwun and a 14-year-old accomplice rolled into the Reliable Pharmacy, waving guns and demanding cash and drugs. Ersland’s co-workers escaped through a back entrance. Ersland, unable to flee due to crippling disability, fought back. Ersland shot Antwun first, and then chased Antwun’s accomplice for a short time before returning to find Antwun was still alive. A terrified Ersland retrieved a second weapon and emptied it into Antwun, killing him.
Just less than a minute had passed since Antwun and his accomplice entered the store. The would-be robber Antwun was dead, and his accomplice was in the wind. A few days later, a crowd of Antwun’s acquaintances created a near-riot at the Reliable Pharmacy, hurling racist insults at Ersland while he worked behind the same counter at which he was standing when Antwun had pointed a gun at him. Then, the local District Attorney decided to charge Ersland with murder in the first degree, based on the video footage of Ersland dispatching Antwun with the second volley.
Ersland, who put his life on the line for a nation that rarely offers its veterans the gratitude they deserve, was facing not only the incomprehensible wrath of the very community which unleashed filth like Antwun upon him, but also the full weight of the justice system.
The National Association for the Advancement of Colored People didn’t race to Oklahoma City to stand behind Ersland in his time of need. Ben and Jerry’s™ didn’t donate a portion of its socially conscious ice cream sales to his defense fund. ESPN didn’t show up with a camera crew to produce a tenderhearted documentary short on Ersland’s battle for justice. The American Civil Liberties Union, the Innocence Project and Amnesty International were all conspicuously absent. There was no benefit rock concert, no exhortation from a cultural icon, no full-page ad in The New York Times signed by all the proper Hollywood stars.
There are no tales of Ersland harboring a deep-seated animus toward black people and no accounts of his membership in a hate group. Ersland is merely a man who left behind the life in which death shadows each step, only to discover death had followed him home. Pressed against the thin pane which separates the here-and-now from the hereafter, Ersland chose to live — even if that meant taking the life of the person who threatened his. For the crimes of refusing to be another victim, refusing to be the lead story on the evening news and refusing to give up his life to one of the ticks who feed ravenously on the blood of society, Ersland has been cast out forever.
So the victim goes to jail, and we all go on with the rest of our lives.
Imagine, if you will, a football team. It has practiced diligently. It has scouted the opposition exhaustively. It has a loyal, albeit marginally unbalanced, fan base. It has a foolproof game plan. It is ready. Then, it gets on the field and it loses — big. Final score: 97-0.
Now, imagine the reaction of the beat writers, sports-radio shriekers and television talking hairdos in the wake of such an epic beat down. The cacophony would be louder than Ed Schultz screaming at the most recent woman to turn him down for a date. And the players would have to either make a comeback for the ages or announce their plans to retire.
For President Barack Obama and the Senate Democrats, it’s a good thing liberal politics are nothing like football. Because last week, the Democrat-dominated U.S. Senate voted 97-0 to kill the $3.7 trillion budget Obama sent to Capitol Hill in February. Let that sink in for a moment. “Coach” Obama had more than three months to get his team ready to play, and it performed like a Green Bay High School junior varsity against the Green Bay Packers. Actually, that analogy is imperfect. “Coach” Obama had more than three months to get his team ready to play, and it ended up cheering for the other team.
Of course, if your only source of news is the Democrat-controlled corporate media, then you didn’t hear about last week’s Beltway beat down.The Democrats were hysterically screeching about the likelihood that Representative Paul Ryan’s (R-W
isc.) budget proposal was going to sneak out in the middle of the night and ax-murder your grandmother. One Democratic group even went so far as to produce an appalling attack ad depicting someone (presumably a heartless Republican like Ryan) pushing a kindly old woman off of a cliff. The corporate media, of course, were more than willing to treat the Democrat-authored talking points (read: outright lies) about the Ryan budget’s vicious assault on Medicare as if they were facts.
Ryan’s budget would do nothing of the sort, of course. Instead, it will preserve the financially flagging Medicare system for Americans older than 55 and restore some fiscal sanity to an entitlement which — barring reform — is projected to face insolvency within 15 years. Unsurprisingly, that aspect of the Ryan plan was left out of the Democratic fearmongering; and it was entirely absent from the corporate media’s sycophantic reportage on the budget-wrangling. Ultimately, the Ryan budget — and possibly Medicare’s future — lost 57-40. For those of you keeping score at home, that’s a solid defeat. It was, however, an immensely better showing than the silent whitewashing Obama’s budget endured.
One might fairly presume that the Democrats, having demagogued, distorted and defeated the Ryan plan — having killed their own President’s budget — would have presented a plan to the taxpayers. Unfortunately, you would be as wrong as Lawrence O’Donnell saying… anything.
Ryan’s falsely maligned proposal lost, sure. But Obama’s proposal was beaten like a red-headed step-budget. And the Senate Democrats, seizing the opportunity to show actual leadership for the first time since Representative Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.) let Senator Harry Reid (R-Nev.) put down her purse, offered… nothing.
There is no budget offered by the Senate Democrats. Granted, asking for substantive ideas from a Democratic party that has always been long on defamatory rhetoric and short on ideas is about as fanciful as hoping the aforementioned JV team will upend the Packers. But they had time to slander Ryan to the point of insinuating he’s borderline homicidal. Certainly, they had time to come up with their own (over)spending plan. Sadly, with the game on the line, the Democratic Party choked. Again.
97-0. Lest I miss the chance to stretch the football analogy a bit farther: If you lose a game like that, you unload the players for better personnel and fire the coach. And that, my friends, is the ballgame.
All right, kiddies, it’s that time again. Every now and then, Bob Livingston allows me to prod your cerebra with the proverbial sharp object. Actually, every now and then, I turn in one of my clever little civics quizzes so close to deadline that Livingston doesn’t have time to fill my space with old Herbert “Herblock” Block cartoons.
Granted, the average reader of Personal Liberty Digest™ is a veritable Rhodes Scholar compared to the low-forehead types who populate some of our dear liberal web counterparts, but I believe in encouraging you to exercise the old gray matter from time to time. “Use it or lose it,” sayeth the old sage. Plus, if you let your brains atrophy, you will start behaving foolishly. From there, it’s only a matter of time before you decay into liberalism and begin living green, speaking with your eyes closed and subscribing to Mother Jones. Being a cavalier sort, I’m here to help. So put away your laptops and iPhones and shut off the television; here comes the latest edition of the Personal Liberty Digest Citizen’s Quiz.
In constructing this examination, I tried to be fair, but firm. Don’t fret if you fare poorly. Remember: There are no stupid answers, only stupid people — and they are at Dailykos.com, waiting for Dennis Kucinich to tell them where the aliens are going to land.
Dominique Strauss-Kahn is:
- The maître d’ at Oprah Winfrey’s favorite restaurant.
- A minor character from the film “The Boys from Brazil.”
- The disgraced ex-head of the International Monetary Fund.
- Trying to figure out if that crossbeam in his cell can hold his weight.
- Secretly controls the universe from its headquarters.
- Is the real-life basis for the DC Comics’™ Legion of Doom.
- An enormously influential — albeit shadowy — intergovernmental economic group.
- A national chain of greasy-spoon pancake joints.
President Barack Obama recently sold out Israel in order to:
- Demonstrate his commitment to continuing the peace process.
- Drive down real estate prices close to the beaches in Haifa.
- A result of his comprehensive ignorance of Middle Eastern politics.
- Get a discount at the DuPont Circle falafel cart.
Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s intransigence in dealing with Obama is:
- Uncalled for. Obama is the WORLD’S President! Why can’t Netanyahu see that?
- Likely to knock him off George Soros’ Yom Kippur card list.
- A bold, statesmanlike stand by the strong leader of an embattled country.
- Going to give Jimmy Carter a coronary if he keeps it up.
Pakistan appears to be edging closer to China’s sphere of influence because:
- Pakistan leaders figure Islamofascism and communism are no less compatible than Islamofascism and freedom.
- The ChiComs ask fewer questions about trafficking in human slavery.
- Pakistan is as loyal to its allies as teenage girls are to fashion trends.
- Pakistan is taking lessons in “how to roll over dissidents with tanks and still host the Olympics.”
Harold Camping’s prediction of the End of Days didn’t turn out because:
- He skipped a couple of important pages in Apocalyptic Cults for Dummies.
- God was out enjoying the beautiful spring weather.
- Please tell me you didn’t need help with this one.
- The world actually DID end Saturday afternoon; it’s just that purgatory isn’t as bad as we had been led to believe.
Herman Cain’s decision to run for President:
- Is really a cynical effort to boost his radio talk-show ratings.
- Is really a cynical effort to widen the market for lousy pizza.
- Will make a somewhat-moribund race for the GOP nomination much more interesting.
- Will give liberals another target for their racism besides Clarence Thomas.
Tim Pawlenty’s decision to run for President:
- Was greeted with all the fanfare of double-coupon day at the Stop & Shop.
- Gives Mitt Romney a challenger in the “Most Stereotypical White-boy Republican” competition.
- Gives moderate agricultural-state denizens someone to consider besides Obama.
- Will redeem Minnesota’s Presidential politics image after that whole Mondale ’84 disaster.
Jon Huntsman is:
- The tennis pro at the Salt Lake City Country Club.
- The real-life model for the “Politician Ken” doll; coming soon from Mattel™!
- Still a better choice in 2012 than Obama, for whatever that’s worth.
- Keeping that “Just for Men™” endorsement deal in his back pocket as an insurance policy.
Obama’s reelection message is “We need more time” because:
- He spent too much of his first term kicking it with the New Black Panther Party.
- It looks better on a bumper sticker than: “Mr. Soros says he has enough cash left over from the Media Matters for America ‘Hatefest 2011.’”
- Four years isn’t enough to utterly foul up both foreign AND domestic policy.
- Michelle Obama wants taxpayers to foot the bill for a few more 5-star vacations.
Donald Trump abandoned his Presidential aspirations because he:
- Couldn’t face four years of competing with his hair for attention.
- Couldn’t face four years of competing with other world leaders for attention.
- Couldn’t face four years of guys like me making lame comb-over jokes.
- Couldn’t convince NeNe Leakes to join his cabinet as Secretary of Temper Tantrums.
Cynthia McKinney recently appeared on Libyan state TV in order to:
- Boost her chances to win the Miss Islamofascism pageant.
- Debut her new single: “Let your hate flow.”
- Remind people that she’s so much more than just the “crazy broad that even Hank Johnson’s congressional district thought was too embarrassing.”
- Give Green Party members something to do besides reread their dog-eared copies of Unsafe at Any Speed.
The floods wreaking havoc in the Midwest are caused by:
- Global warming (aka global cooling, aka global climate change, aka An Inconvenient Slide Show).
- Al Gore and the staff at Current TV.
- The same meteorological and geological cycles which have existed for billions of years.
- An evil conspiracy of Piltdown Man enthusiasts, space aliens and the International Society of Phrenologists.
Obama’s trip to Ireland was:
- A journey of self-discovery for a man in search of his roots.
- A result of the fact that “First Black President” doesn’t mean you can cut in the beer line on St. Patrick’s Day.
- A nicely staged photo-op designed to convince American voters that a small Irish village should play a big role in selecting the leader of the free world.
- An expensive (for the taxpayers) way to make Obama look like he drinks beer instead of white wine spritzers.
America’s still-declining image in the Arab World is the fault of:
- George Bush.
- Dick Cheney.
- Obama’s ham-fisted, spineless foreign policy and the lack of respect it engenders.
- America’s stubborn insistence on allowing women to drive, vote and leave the yurt without being stoned to death in an honor killing.
Time’s up, students. Pass your papers forward so that I may collect them, grade them and then use them for heating fuel this winter when utility rates are higher than Michelle Obama’s wardrobe budget. If you fared poorly, fret not. The good folk of Detroit are still trying to remember how to spell their names at the top of their tests.
I’ll ring the bell now, as I know you have important matters which require attention. There’s the thanks-to-Obama’s-economic-‘recovery,’-we’re-vacationing-in-the-back-yard trip to plan, the kidney you need to list on eBay so you can afford baked beans next month and the new Lady Gaga video coming up on MTV. I hear she’s going to wear a dress made up of strategically placed Filipino children.
Never let it be said that Professor Crystal isn’t hip enough to know what the kids are into these days. But don’t forget: Your final exam is set for November 2012. Study hard.
As the parade of potential Presidents of the United States marches toward 2012, I can’t help but notice there’s a scent on the breeze. Watching the Democrats and the corporate media circle the wagons around their idol, it finally occurred to me what the putrescent odor is: fear.
And this fear isn’t the usual vote-Republican-and-you-will-end-up-freezing-to-death-on-some-street-corner-and,-by-the-way,-they-are-evil-racists fear. It’s more of the President-Barack-Obama-is-only-slightly-more-deserving-of-a-second-term-than-Jay-Carney-is-of-a-main-event-fight-with-Floyd-Mayweather-Jr. fear. So cue the corporate media.
MNSBC comedian Chris “Tingle-boy” Matthews, noteworthy for nestling most joyously in President Barack Obama’s pocket, has announced he wants nothing to do with any of Obama’s challengers. There was a time when a self-proclaimed journalist would be exiled to the celebrity-rehab beat for that sort of statement. In the age of Obama, Matthews will probably get a contract extension.
But be fair to Matthews. Unlike the rest of the tinfoil-hat brigadiers who have made MSNBC a funhouse-mirror image of a reputable news outlet, he has never even pantomimed legitimacy. During one of his “interviews” with fellow corporate media bobbleheads on his socialist shriekfest Monday night, Matthews has already made up his mind (or had it made up for him) regarding the potential 2012 GOP slate: “I don’t want an interview with any of these guys.”
Er, Chrissy, not to burst your bubble there, but you have obviously made the classic blunder which befalls most liberal media stooges: You actually think you are that important. It’s not as if Romney, Huntsman or Pawlenty are clamoring for the chance to sit at your table and drink bad coffee while you read Democratic Party-scripted talking points and refuse to let them get a word in edgewise. I also suspect that all three — along with the other, more conservative candidates — are a little too big for cable news’ never-going-to-be-ready-for-primetime crew.
And with the profoundly stupid Matthews going so far as to call former Alaska Governor Sarah Palin “profoundly stupid,” conservatives will avoid his channel like Ed Schultz avoids the heart-smart section on the menu. And MSNBC’s campaign-season programming will feature Democrats talking to Democrats — meaning the rubber-room programming which has made MSNBC an industry joke will stay unchanged and unwatchable.
Over at New York Magazine (yes, it’s still alive), the most recent issue touted a long-on-words, short-on-actual-sources piece titled “The Elephant in the Green Room,” designed to continue the Democratic Party’s myth that Roger Ailes runs the GOP. While the piece was written for the liberal faithful (making you wonder why it was printed at all, considering the liberal faithful already believes Fox News and the GOP are inextricably linked), it was really just a compendium of dubious innuendo and outright nonsense: “You can’t run for the Republican nomination without talking to Roger.”
Definitive statements like that look good on paper and are easily believed by Democrats who have heard that nonsense from their dear leaders for the better part of a decade. Of course, New York Magazine is about as legitimate in the world of journalism as a junior high school yearbook, but the question is: Why now?
The answer, my friends, is fear. Obama’s unparalleled incompetence has left him highly vulnerable to a solid challenge. The sock puppets at the low-forehead media outlets are lambasting conservative candidates and anyone who won’t read Soros-authored talking points as news copy because they have realized their beloved Obama can lose. The economy has not recovered and isn’t showing strong signs of doing so to any great extent. Gas prices remain stratospheric, and Obama’s response has been to continue the Democrats’ policy of protecting foreign oil interests instead of American consumers. The execution of Osama bin Laden provided a negligible polling bump. (It should be noted that Obama may have coughed that one up himself. Hey, Mr. President: When Navy SEALS kill the world’s most wanted terrorist, try cutting references to yourself down to the mid-30s per page in your congratulatory remarks.)
In fact, Obama has even begun conducting opposition research on New Jersey Governor Chris Christie — despite the fact that Christie isn’t running. But the real joke mid all this sound and fury is that a Presidential reelection campaign normally focuses on accomplishments. You have about 18 months, Mr. President. Accomplish something.
Give President Barack Obama credit. Having proved himself the most domestic policy-impaired president since Jimmy Carter “lusted in his heart” (if not since Warren Harding got his Teapot Domed), Obama has evidently decided to set his sights overseas. Bad luck for the citizens of our best strategic ally in Middle East. As of Thursday, Israel had to take a backseat to Obama’s visceral need to appease anyone with a dishdasha and a dream.
From the opposite perspective, bad luck for Obama. Of all the populations he might have thrown under the bus, he chose the group which has won the “Most Likely to Refuse to be Annihilated” award for about 4,000 years running. The people of Israel have been around, in various iterations, since Obama’s ancestors were running the Honolulu (or Nairobi) chapter of ACORN. To put a fine point on it: They’re a tough kill.
For those who doubt the veracity of that last statement, ask most of Israel’s neighbors. When Obama submarined Israel last week, endorsing a Palestinian state which would be demarcated by what Obama called the “pre-1967” borders, he was simultaneously sticking his thumb in Israel’s eye and proving himself to be as poor a student of history as so many others who have given the mythical “Palestinian State” credit for borders which never really existed. Prior to 1967, the territory which Obama and those who would choose to appease Islamofascism didn’t belong to “Palestine,” it was simply in a region known as “Palestine.” The land Obama unsuccessfully tried to force Israel to hand over to the same people who have benefitted from the Arab world’s unremitting warmongering belonged to Jordan, Syria and Egypt in 1967.
In fact, peruse the history books, and you will discover the so-called “chosen people” have been around the Levant for the better part of four millennia, giving them a 2,400-year head start on Obama’s new best friends. True, Israel has occasionally offered less-than-magnificent moments as our allies. I’m old enough to remember Jonathan Pollard. Nonetheless, compared to the rest of the Middle Eastern nations, Israel is a rock, a redoubt, a reliable friend in a region of the world in which most of our “friends” are flightier than the White House Press Corps.
And yet, the President of the United States cast his lot with the same lunatics who celebrate murdering Israeli children the way I celebrate getting a bottle of 18-year-old The Macallan for Christmas. These are the same folks who freely elected a terrorist group — Hamas — to run their “government.” Hamas, in turn, broadcasts a children’s television program featuring a nightmarish knockoff of Mickey Mouse™ who teaches the kiddies to kill… I’m guessing… everyone. (His name is “Farfur,” which translates from the original Islamofascist as “Unnaturally Short Lifespan.”)
To be fair, there’s a great deal about the Jewish faith which doesn’t really work for me. And I’m not just talking about the fact that my mother’s linguine with white clam sauce is verboten on the kosher menu. But Israel, which often serves as the geopolitical proxy for Judaism, faces a daily existence which entails a great deal more than simple dietary restrictions. Its neighbors want Israelis dead, and its best friend just surprised it with the news that he’s going to the neighbor’s house for dinner.
For those of you who ask “where are they (the Palestinians) supposed to live?” I would respond: “Since they find sharing a region with the Israelis so appalling, how about one of those fine countries that is so quick to bolster their efforts to annihilate Israel?” The Iranians and Syrians (among others) seem quite happy to offer training and financial assistance to Hamas and the other homicidal/suicidal circus freaks; perhaps they should be amenable to putting some fresh rugs down in the guest mosque.
Tragically, the President of the United States isn’t standing behind our strongest (and some might say “only true”) ally in the Middle East because he’s “got their back.” Instead, he’s standing there because it’s an easier way to stick a knife in their ribs. The Israelis can take it; but they shouldn’t have to.
During my older brother’s college years, the Ku Klux Klan planned a march through the sleepy Southern town in which his school tended the delicate young minds in its charge. As the fateful day approached, the college administrators wrung their hands over the best approach to dealing with the potentially explosive mixture of goose-stepping knot heads and a couple thousand college students drunk on school spirit and youthful vigor. The students ultimately formulated a plan to hold a giant picnic on the intramural fields located on the far side of campus from the Klan’s planned steel-toed strut. The residents of the town were all personally invited, and nearly all attended. The Klan marched through a town empty of all but the ghosts of their sad delusions.
I think the picnic idea was nothing short of brilliant, if for no other reason than that loosing my brother and his friends on the Pinhead Pageant would have generated a bigger crowd of shrieking lunatics in white dresses than the half-off sale at a Manhattan bridal superstore. Where better than college to learn that even soft-underbelly-of-society types like Klansmen have the right to hoot, holler and wear the laundry? Where better than college to learn the value of ignoring them?
But the Klan is easy to ignore. Not that its particular brand of hate isn’t noteworthy; I just can’t get that worked up about a bunch of clowns who have trouble spelling multisyllabic words but know more about thread count than a Beverly Hills madam.
This weekend in Savannah — a city that has endured my presence for years — another group of more virulently venomous villains will be smearing this lovely town with filth. Fred Phelps and his twisted minions of the Westboro Baptist Church have delivered to Savannah the dubious honor of being the latest locale to suffer their foolishness. Unlike a Klan march in a sleepy college town, the Westboro sideshow in a city of more than 250,000 is likely as difficult to ignore as a palmetto bug in your grits.
Ever since word filtered out that the Westboro crazy caravan was headed this way, all Savannah has been abuzz with plans to assemble to demonstrate against Westboro, prank them or simply gawk at the goings-on. There are Facebook groups dedicated to organizing peaceful counter protests, and there are other groups that have more “energetic” responses planned. I will be among neither the former nor the latter.
I am man enough to admit I lack the compunction to stand within range of reprobates like the Westboro flock. If one of them shoved one of those “God Hates Fags” signs in my face, I would make him eat it. (Just in case my mom is reading this, I would be polite about it. I’d offer him some sweet tea to wash it down.) One of my more spiritual friends recently reminded me that Jesus would not only tolerate Phelps and his herd, He would likely love them in accordance with Scripture. My response was a fairly colorful version of: “Do we think there’s a great deal of confusion over which one’s Jesus and which one’s Ben?” I will eschew a visit with Phelps, because I suspect writing “Outside the Asylum” while inside the big house would be fairly difficult.
Allow me to offer the inevitable caveat: As long as Phelps and his accomplices abide by local ordinances (which they seem maddeningly willing to do), they are — and they should be — allowed to make absolute buffoons of themselves. Those of us with crania larger than Georgia white shrimp are allowed likewise to either point out observable buffoonery or pointedly ignore Westboro’s cavalcade of crazy.
Whether it’s Phelps and the Westboro Baptist Church, Louis Farrakhan and the Nation of Islam or “Creepy McStalkerston” and the Montana chapter of the Moody Loners’ Militia, America endures even its most aggressively stupid children. At the very least, their presence reminds us how blessed we are to know better than cheer the deaths of men and women in uniform, 9-year-old girls and/or Ronnie James Dio.
This weekend, while the Westboro Baptist Church slithers into my neighborhood to offer its high-decibel condemnations of military heroes, children and former Monsters of Rock mid-carders, I will be playing in my flag football league’s playoffs. It’s not that I don’t have some choice words for Phelps, it’s just that I would rather sweat, wheeze and limp for three or four days than find a way to make bail.
Herman Cain is a fascinating subject. A self-made millionaire, Cain is a deeply conservative man who recently announced his intention to seek the 2012 Republican Presidential nomination. Cain is a graduate of “historically black” Morehouse College in Atlanta — the alma mater of famous African-Americans including auteur Spike Lee, actor Samuel L. Jackson, banker Walter Massey and a certain clergyman from Atlanta who made quite a name for himself back in the 1960s civil rights movement — and woe be unto the pundit who denigrates the name of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
To put a fine point on it, Cain is black. Granted, he’s a long shot to snare a starring role in the next Lee movie about racist pizza (or whatever), but he’s an even longer shot to snare a role in the next Merchant/Ivory film about 18th century Europeans being… boring. It’s hard to imagine someone questioning the “blackness” of a man who rubbed shoulders with such notables at such an institution of higher learning; especially if the questioner is a liberal hack who’s only slightly less white than the Queen of England.
Fortunately for Bill Maher, Democrat Party mouthpieces are evidently exempt from their own standards. On his HBO bobble-head program, the nauseatingly unfunny Maher did NOT call Cain an “Uncle Tom.” However, he did employ Cain as a token to take another gratuitous swipe at the conservatives whom Maher despises more than — well — anything:
“Herman Cain, I never heard of this guy, but apparently he ran Godfather’s Pizza, and Republicans say they love him so they’re not racist — right.”
Actually, the presence of a black man (Cain is not the only African-American whose name has come up. Florida Representative Allen West isn’t exactly Swedish) in the Republican Party Presidential race has no more bearing on the racial politics of the Republican Party in general than President Barack Obama’s mixed-race heritage does on the racial politics of the Democrat Party. In fact, I would posit that a white guy — such as Maher — who would draw such a vertex is himself a racist. Maher, likely out of desperation to denigrate anyone who would challenge his beloved Obama, has attempted to reduce Cain from successful businessman to lawn jockey.
Obama’s political career has largely rested upon some of the most disingenuous race-baiting politics in recent memory. From the 2008 corporate media claiming an Obama loss equated institutional racism, to endlessly Democrat-accepted — albeit factually unsupported — claims of Tea Party racism, to the presence of unrepentant bigots like the repulsive Eric Holder in the Attorney General’s office, the Democrats have made race the centerpiece of the response to virtually every criticism of their Presidential hegemony.
Earlier this year, Democrat Party affiliated hate group Common Cause held a rally at which they unabashedly called for the lynching of Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas. Following that outrage — which went largely unreported by the corporate media — Common Cause issued a half-hearted apology. The “apology” was accepted without question by everyone whom the Democrats consider important; a list which did NOT include the target of the racist invective — Justice Thomas himself. The lily-white Democrats who wished for Thomas to meet his end dangling from a rope made their own bigotry clear in their own words. I have a hard time believing that they’d have demanded a lynching or for Thomas to be sent “to the fields” if he looked like — say — Jay Carney.
Maher noted Cain’s Presidential campaign in an effort to repeat the tired old Democrat smear that Republicans are racist. Assuming that Maher is telling the truth about not recognizing Cain — which reveals a serious lack of professionalism on the part of Maher’s writing staff — then he only noted Cain’s political affiliation because of Cain’s race. THAT, my friends, is racist.
Herman Cain is not “my guy” in the 2012 field, although he’d be a damned sight better at dispensing the duties of the Presidency than the manufactured buffoon who’s squatting there now. But in true liberal fashion, Maher treated Cain like a politicized “Stepin’ Fetch it” in order to prove a Democrat fantasy — Republicans are racist — which doesn’t exist in fact.
So the economy is not exactly hitting on all cylinders of late. Unemployment hovers around the double-digit mark (the Department of Labor says 9 percent; it’s likely higher). The dollar is showing signs of losing its position in the currency market’s starting rotation (even currencies named AFTER ours — the Canadian dollar is one example — are ahead of our dollar in the batting order). And close to 15 percent of our fellow Americans receive government aid of one sort or another.
But it could be worse. In my Tuesday column “Want Fries with That?,” I mused on the tragedy of a Democratic Party that has delivered such a beating to the economy it now touts as proof of some mythic recovery the very same McJobs it once reviled.
Imagine if close to half of the work-eligible population was so ignorant that a McJob was as much a pipe dream as a winning McLottery ticket. Imagine if even the simplest tasks — especially filling out a job application — were beyond the scope of possibility for nearly half of the adult population. From the standpoint of civilization, a place saddled with a populace so helpless would be an absolute wasteland. There would be little chance of President Barack Obama’s “Hope and Change.” Indeed, Hope would have pulled up stakes and hightailed it for the hinterlands long ago, while Change would consist of little more than whatever one might find on the sidewalk.
Welcome to Detroit. The Motor City’s population is 714,000. The literacy rate among adults is 53 percent. That last figure is doubtless one of the more important reasons why Detroit’s population is less than half of what it was during the heyday of (read: pre-union-thug destruction of) the American automobile industry.
I would like to believe that even among the greedy, union-thug-backed Democrats, someone would at least hesitate before employing a workforce that is incapable of real work. After all, we are discussing neither senior citizens beset by the jackbooted Service Employees International Union nor other senior citizens pleading for their lives in front of Obamacare death panels.
Much like the victims of liberal programming in New Orleans, Louisiana and Washington, D.C., the citizens of Detroit may not have made their bed, but they certainly helped fluff the pillows. Detroit, like NOLA and D.C., has long been a Democratic Party stronghold. A 2005 study by the Bay Area Center for Voter Research indicated Detroit is the most liberal large city in America.
In the past decade, despite the virtually epic decimation-from-within of their city, the goodly folks of Detroit elected the repulsive criminal Kwame Kilpatrick mayor – twice. Their school system, which is so atrocious that the entire board was once ousted by the Michigan State Legislature, recently posted the worst test scores ever reported by the National Assessment of Educational Progress. Close to three-fourths of fourth graders in Detroit have “below-basic” academic skills. The numbers get progressively worse as students approach and enter high school.
The whole world watched in 2005 as vast numbers of New Orleans residents, left not only indigent but incapable by decades of nanny-state government, ignored warnings as Hurricane Katrina approached. Then, abandoned by their Democratic providers, they fell either upon the ground outside the Superdome or predatorily upon each other.
The residents of Detroit, similarly enslaved by the callous greed and inhuman ineptitude of liberalism, have lost not only the ability to care for themselves, but the ability to care at all.
A major urban center in the heart of the greatest Nation in history has become a graveyard of progress, littered with the broken headstones which mark nearly every place which falls victim to Democratic Party hegemony. Whether a village or a metropolis, a place in which nearly half of the adult population cannot read simply cannot survive.
As George W. Bush entered the stretch run of his 2004 reelection bid, the national unemployment rate hovered around 5.4 percent. Any economist worth his slide rule (sit down, Paul Krugman) would agree that 5.4 percent is barely a Joe Biden hairplug’s breadth above nominal zero. Bush’s economic “strategery” in the years following the tech sector dive and the plunge of the housing and construction markets was no small accomplishment – especially considering Bush spent taxpayer money like a second wife.
Americans were working. And the Democratic Party, growing desperate after a few years of minority-party status, was furious. So the Democrats went retro and reintroduced the old 1980s McJobs canard. They couldn’t run against Bush on unemployment, so they ran against Bush on the quality of employment, claiming the jobs created by the Bush economic plan were low-paying, minimal-advancement work in the service sector. The McJobs strategy didn’t work, at least partially because those willing to work were glad to be able to do so.
Late last week, the employment figures ventured onto the front page, and they were hardly a cause for celebration outside corporate media outlets. According to the Department of Labor, the national unemployment rate is just north of 9 percent. That’s poor. That’s also likely an understatement. President Barack Obama’s Department of Labor has a habit of initially lowballing unemployment numbers, then quietly releasing “revised” (upward) figures once the President has taken a curtain call. In fact, the Department of Labor engaged in that exact sort of economic subterfuge (read: lying) in both March and April.
But let’s examine the “recovery” which Obama and the Democrats have foisted upon us. Stipulating for the sake of discussion that the April employment figures are more accurate than they were in February and March, then the economy added just shy of 250,000 jobs in April. The Democratic Party is so overjoyed by this news that Democrats are shouting of “Obamanomic” success from the highest rooftops. But they are leaving something out.
Of the jobs “created” during the most recent reporting period, 224,000 were in the private services sector. Nearly half of those – 103,000 – were in the tertiary economic sectors: retail, restaurant and leisure services. That means they were the same McJobs the Democratic Party reviled during the Bush Administration. (Author’s note: Despite rumors to the contrary, the McJobs in question do not reflect the recent McDonald’s hiring binge. Those 60,000+ jobs came after the reporting period, meaning Obama will take credit for them next month.)
Fewer than a tenth of the new jobs “created” were in construction or manufacturing. Even as Obama’s stewardship relegates the dollar to the sort of monetary status enjoyed by such noteworthy currencies as the mighty zloty, the manufacturing sector is not rebounding as it should with export costs being so low.
You might assume Obama would respond to the flagging primary and secondary economic sectors by proactively working to improve economic conditions. You might be wrong.
We are all aware of Obama’s hostility to the mining and oil industries, except for those headquartered in Brazil. Not only is Obama not leading any cheers for American manufacturing, he is doing the exact opposite. The National Labor Relations Board is pursuing action against Boeing’s plan to open a facility in South Carolina. The NLRB, under the auspices of recess-appointed Big Labor puppets like Lafe Solomon and Service Employees International Union thug Craig Becker (who needed a recess appointment because the Senate rejected him), is of the opinion that the aircraft manufacturer should be precluded from opening its new 787 Dreamliner plant in the Palmetto State because its workers enjoy the freedom to work without being forced to join the union-thug horde.
Following an economic downturn engineered by four years of Congressional Democrat mismanagement and two years of a President who is almost as competent as, say, one of the has-beens on “Celebrity Apprentice,” the most recent jobs report indicates the only growing sector is in McJobs, with which the Democratic Party is suddenly comfortable. Obama responds by punishing the very workers he claims to represent.
My apologies for rousting you from your post-“bin Laden sleeps with the fishes” reverie (or not, depending on your perspective); but the Democrats are apparently not done with “The Donald.”
If you’re carrying what the industry calls “heat” — show up at the annual festival of self-congratulations known as the White House Correspondents’ Dinner and you’ll find yourself the virtual belle of the ball. That is — unless you’re ostensibly Republican and ostensibly running for President. In that case, prepare to get savaged like you were the new guy on the cellblock.
Just ask Donald Trump. Trump was an invited guest, but gate-crashers at exclusive parties in Vegas receive classier—if not better—treatment. Trump sat through a ream of snarky material by the master of ceremonies, “Saturday Night Live” head writer Seth Meyers. Meyers did the usual liberal dance on Trump:
“Donald Trump has said he’s running for president as a Republican—which is surprising because I thought he was running as a joke.”
Meyers later went back to the well for a cheap hair joke.
“(Trump) often appears on Fox, which is funny because a fox often appears on Donald Trump’s head.”
Granted, I abuse the make-fun-of-Trump’s-hair gag as much as anyone, but that one was weaker than the logic at a global warming conference. Trump should have been aware that his presence in a room filled with the unabashedly liberal flacks who pass for the White House Press Corps would put the crosshairs squarely on his… comb-over. But Meyers spent more time on Trump than Nancy Pelosi does on her face.
And Meyers was far from the biggest player in the room to take Trump to the woodshed. President Barack Obama himself put the crosshairs on The Donald:
“Donald Trump is here tonight… no one is prouder to put this birth certificate matter to rest than the Donald… because he can finally get back to focusing on the issues that matter, like, ‘Did we fake the moon landing?’ ‘What really happened on Roswell?’ And ‘Where are Biggie and Tupac?’
Oh, dead gangster-rapper jokes. Even Meyers didn’t stretch that hard. Mr. President, the 1990s called, ACORN has an opening for a “community organizer.”
Here’s something most people missed amidst the mirth and merriment: Donald Trump just became the most important person in American politics. It’s one thing for Meyers to devote special attention to The Donald, but the President went in front of the other most powerful person in politics—Oprah—to acknowledge that Trump accomplished what no one else could for more than two years in forcing Obama to release a birth certificate. If I had just been forced by a reality television star to fight out of my weight class, the last thing I would do is shine a light on how badly he hurt me.
While the supplicant sycophants who pass themselves off as the corporate media gasped, giggled and guffawed at Obama’s Trump-centric stand-up routine, Trump sat tight-lipped, managing a grin despite being the butt of a joke which went on far too long. As the blogosphere lit up with liberal celebrations—and conservative condemnations—of the ersatz roast of Trump, many missed the best line of the weekend:
“I don’t think the American people are having a good time with $5 gas.”
While gas prices rise to record levels, tornadoes turn much of the Deep South into a pile of kindling wood and April provided the highest number of American war casualties in two years, the President of the United States returned from a command performance at the Court of Oprah to… make fun of Donald Trump’s hair. And Trump countered with an EF5 haymaker.
As many of you are well aware, I am seriously NOT on board The Donald Express. But The Donald has pushed around The President with surprising ease. I hope the truly conservative aspirants to the highest office in the land are paying attention.
Perhaps it’s a result of his sheltered political career, protected from the slings and arrows of deserved fortune by the thick-walled monolith of liberal dogma; but Barack Obama is surprisingly thin-skinned; and if his WHCA dinner performance was any indication, he reacts to rhetorical beatings like a preteen girl.
For what it’s worth, the very first joke I heard following the reports of bin Laden’s execution:
“BREAKING NEWS: Donald Trump demands Osama Bin Laden’s death certificate.”
That’s funny. Mr. President, maybe you could start making jokes after you stop being one.
This won’t take long, kids. And it won’t be all that funny, either. Last night, as I was polishing a piece on an entirely different topic, the Drudge Report ran the headline. Then CNN began screaming that a Presidential address to the nation was expected for sometime after 10:30 EDT. Without seeming immodest, I knew it was coming. The President — any President — wouldn’t ask for a few moments of our time at that hour except under extremely unusual circumstances.
Say goodbye to Osama bin Laden, everyone. Say hello to Damnation, Osama.
In the coming days, weeks and probably months, the theories will fly, the credit will be claimed and the blame will be assigned. While most Americans celebrate the liquidation of one of the most perfect examples of globally influential evil since Stalin purged his last dissident and/or Mao issued his last little red book, there are other residents of our big blue marble who will react in an entirely different manner.
Islamofascists worldwide have already begun issuing messages of rage:
“Oh God, please make this news not true… God curse you, Obama… Oh Americans… it is still legal for us to cut your necks.”
“How can you convince me that all these years American could not kill or even reach him. Americans knew bin Laden suffered from health problems. Maybe he was approaching his death and they wanted to exploit it.”
And of revenge:
“We regard this as a continuation of the American policy based on oppression and the shedding of Muslim and Arab blood… (bin Laden was a) holy warrior…“
The first two were “man on the street” remarks. That last one is the official statement by the terrorist organization HAMAS. It should be noted that HAMAS has a stateside support group in CAIR (the Council on American-Islamic Relations). CAIR has released a statement ostensibly cheering the news of bin Laden’s execution; meaning either they’ve broken away from HAMAS, or the next jihadi reunion is going to be a little awkward.
I’d also be remiss if I didn’t point out that according to WikiLeaks, al-Qaida has promised to “Unleash a nuclear hellstorm on the West if bin Laden is killed.” Presuming WikiLeaks is credible — a debatable point — the War on Terror is far from finished.
But let me offer everyone a brief thought. For the time being, enjoy the news. A man who literally lived as the proud avatar of modern-day terrorism was hunted down and eliminated. Focus on the fallout tomorrow. Today, congratulate the men and women of our Armed Forces for forcing an animal like bin Laden to spend his twilight years running like a scalded camel. Praise the operators in Seal Team Six for flattening bin Laden like roadkill — without a single American casualty during what is being reported as a 40 minute (!) operation.
Osama bin Laden devoted nearly a quarter century to Islamofascist bloodshed, terror and mayhem. While the hunt took almost 15 years (bin Laden was the prime suspect in the 1998 U.S. Embassy bombings), in the end, Seal Team Six devoted less than an hour to hosing bin Laden down with .223 bug spray.
Today, bin Laden takes his place in Perdition alongside the worst aberrations of human nature. The time for recrimination, for bitter epilogues and politicization is tomorrow.
In my recent column 15 More Minutes, I noted that I possess moderate-to-grave concerns about Donald Trump’s potential Presidential candidacy. I offered my take on “The Donald” for “The White House.” And I got “flamed” like a 5-cent steak on a napalm-fueled grill. But I have to live by the old sage: “If you can’t stand the heat, don’t get sideways with the readers of the Personal Liberty Digest™.” While I’m not a dedicated fan of Trump 2012, I am one of the world’s biggest fans of Almost Anyone Who Lacks An Actual Felony Record 2012. In addition to my remarks about The Donald’s political aspirations, I also suggested:
“Closer to November 2012, I’ll share my thoughts on my choice for President.”
Although I meant sometime IN 2012, I suppose it’s fair for me to offer a few thoughts on the field. President Barack Obama has already announced his intention to run for another four years.
With the upcoming Presidential race attracting candidates like the proverbial moths to the flame, there’s no shortage of material to examine. This early in the season, the field is as crowded as the first round of the NHL playoffs.
So, once more unto the breach goeth I, in a manner of speaking.
Donald Trump: I’m nothing if not persistent. I still don’t take him or his candidacy seriously. Even if his purported search for Obama’s birth certificate weren’t just the latest in the long line of publicity stunts which have defined most of The Donald’s public life over the past three decades or so, I still don’t take his candidacy seriously. I’m still unclear as to whether his candidacy is any more real than that thing on top of his head. Trump is also a bit of a political chameleon, and we should all be concerned about his actual policies. On the plus side, the French wouldn’t have the hottest first lady anymore. Maybe the GOP could placate Trump with a new cabinet-level position: Secretary of Hot Blondes. Although Trump should be advised: I’m submitting my resume, as well. I do have a lingering question: If Trump wins, will he trade in the U.S. for a younger country before his term expires?
Mitt Romney: Between HillaryCare and Obamacare, there was RomneyCare. Back in the days when Romney served as an unlikely Governor of Massachusetts, he introduced a healthcare plan which bore a striking resemblance to both the erstwhile First Lady’s misdirected package and Obama’s Quixotic gallop down the same path. Romney is experienced in both public and private sector success; he is comfortable in the glare of public scrutiny; and he’s a fundraising machine. However, RomneyCare is going to stick to him like a trial lawyer to a speeding ambulance. In addition, he’s telegenic to the point of being almost plastic. From time to time, I feel an odd compulsion to peek at his back to see if there’s a pull string.
Newt Gingrich: Oh, the Democrats want him to lead out of the gate. Gingrich, who is likely the most well-versed candidate in issues domestic and foreign, is the man who proved that Democrats can’t really hold a lead on actual policy. In 1994, Gingrich forced the Democratic Party to run its midterm elections on being Democrats. That worked as well for them then as it did in 2010. However, Gingrich is toting more baggage than a Park Avenue heiress packing for a month in the Hamptons.
Mitch Daniels: Before you dismiss him as a governor of a marginally important State with limited public recognition, consider this: In 1991, Bill Clinton was that fat guy from Arkansas with the angry-looking wife and a taste for… er… cigars. Daniels wasn’t even in the running until he dismembered “Cap and Trade” in the pages of The Wall Street Journal. On the down side, he’s hinted at a willingness to raise taxes; in the age of Tea Party ascendency, that’s tantamount to suggesting a tax cheat for Secretary of the Treasury. Not that anyone would ever do that.
Allen West: Watch Representative West carefully. For his resume to be more impressive, it would have to include multiple commendations for excellence and bravery while serving in uniform. Oh right… it does. The lone criticism liberals have managed to concoct so far? He got sideways with the Uniform Code of Military Justice during an interrogation of a possible terrorist in Iraq. West’s statement about the incident:
“If it’s about the lives of my soldiers at stake, I’d go through hell with a gasoline can.”
I don’t doubt that he would. He’s a military hero, a fiscal and social conservative and an unrepentant patriot. To be honest, I’m surprised Democratic Party-endorsed Common Cause hasn’t called for him to be lynched yet. If his candidacy gains steam, grab some popcorn and turn on MSNBC. I can’t wait for putty-faced Democrats to call West an “Uncle Tom.” Furthermore, I can’t wait for West to make them take it back.
Michele Bachmann: Her biggest advantages? She’s smart and unafraid of conflict with the liberal hordes, and she can raise money with the best of them. Her biggest drawbacks? As a conservative woman, she jumps right to the top of the list of Democratic — hence, Democratic media — targets. Liberals are not fond of conservatives in general. Liberals become positively apoplectic at the idea of conservative women. If you ever want to see the definition of sexism in motion, watch Chris Matthews devote an hour to Representative Bachmann. Additionally, Bachmann suffers from the inevitable comparisons to…
Sarah Palin: She’s bright, conservative, determined and easy to look at. Unfortunately, to the hypocrites who run the show at the Democratic Party, a woman with those credentials might as well be the Queen of the Damned. No one outside prison has attracted pure vitriol from the Democrats in the volume to which Palin has been subjected. In fact, given the Democrats’ fondness for certain people currently confined to correctional facilities around the country (Mumia Abu-Jamal for President, anyone?), she might suffer by comparison in the eyes of George Soros’s little friends. On the downside, Palin is ubiquitous to the point of being trendy. Trends fade. Imagine if a V.P. candidate from a losing ticket tried for the big chair four years later. Now imagine having to spend the rest of your career as the “female Walter Mondale.”
Mike Huckabee: Is it possible to be too nice and too earnest to be President? Huckabee is everything Obama isn’t: honest, forthright and competent. I’m also quite sure that he’d be perfectly comfortable thumping our enemies on the head with the proverbial brick. However, Huckabee lacks across-the-board support from conservatives, and the religious undertones of his message will push moderates away. Here’s a moment for the ages: Should Huckabee win, look for Representative Keith Ellison’s expression when Huckabee takes the oath of office on the Bible. Even money says Huckabee will smile at Ellison the whole time. However, the smart money says that Huckabee will sit out 2012, electing to make a whole lot more money — with a whole lot fewer headaches — in a television studio.
Herman Cain: I never liked Godfather’s Pizza. But I love a successful business model. As a resident of Georgia, I’ve seen and heard a lot of and from Herman Cain, and none of it gives me pause. He’s intelligent, erudite and competent. He’s also proudly outspoken about his conservative attitudes. He will face an uphill battle for recognition in a crowded field, but Jimmy Carter emerged from Georgia to win the White House… maybe Carter isn’t the best example. At the very least, Cain would have won the Battle of the Chattahoochee Bunny.
Tim Pawlenty: The former two-term Governor of Minnesota. Pawlenty has a chance, although that chance is likely smaller than the odds of running through Tehran with an Israeli flag and surviving. He would lose his home state. That’s never good. Even Mondale won Minnesota in ’84.
Barack Obama: It’s noteworthy that the incumbent has managed to do such a bang-up job in what looks increasingly like his only term that he’s not even the front-runner. I’m not going to belabor the point. But I will say this: I couldn’t help but notice that every time soon-to-be-ex-Secretary of State Hillary Clinton declares she’s not a candidate, her husband smiles like a chubby chaser finding the latest issue of Big Beautiful Babies in the mail.
Hillary Clinton: Obama isn’t whispering sweet nothings to Michelle. He’s just repeating his personal mantra: “She’s not running. She’s not running. She’s not running.” Go to your happy place, Barack. Just think of the speaking fees you’ll collect from the New Black Panther Party.
There are surely other candidates, some of whom aren’t so bizarre that they’ve earned The Huffington Post Seal of Approval. Governor Haley Barbour’s years as RNC chairman and a lobbyist have earned him connections in every wing of the GOP. Rep. Paul Ryan has experience and a solid conservative resume, and he makes liberals foam at the mouth with hatred. However, Ryan seems content in his current position.
And don’t discount another Democrat running for the 2012 roses. Obama is staggering like a punch-drunk fighter who’s years past his prime. And the Democratic Party is well known for pulling out the proverbial rifles when their horses pull up lame.
No matter what the outcome, the stage is set for one hell of a sprint to the line. Thanks to Personal Liberty Digest™, you get a front-row seat.
Last weekend, more than a billion Christians around the world observed the passing of Good Friday and Easter. Well… MOST Christians observed Good Friday and Easter. Rumor has it that some of us were observing the passing of a Good Hangover and/or an Easter discount at the golf course. (Well, that’s what I heard.) For the 234 million self-identified American Christians, the weekend was marked by traditional religious observance, traditional meals, children imprisoned in those traditional — albeit horrendous — pastel Easter outfits their parents think are so ADORABLE, and more than a few traditional three-putts on the greens.
This year, one tradition ended. President Barack Obama — who retroactively proclaimed his attendance at an Easter church service (presided over by Wallace Charles Smith, a sort of junior varsity Jeremiah Wright; peace and love, indeed) — neglected to wish better than three-fourths of the populace a “Happy Easter.” Granted, Obama did mention Holy Week, but he did so in a private prayer breakfast the Tuesday before Easter and then again in his weekend address, but only in passing. And there was an Easter Egg Roll on the White House lawn, but that didn’t happen until Monday morning. According to Scripture, the Son of Man rose on Sunday. (As if The Savior would ever have visited America’s Gomorrah-by-the-Potomac to begin with.)
Many people have expressed everything from disappointment to outright mortification that Obama would omit Nos. 2 and 3 of the Top 10 Days God Says You Better Remember. Obama has issued Presidential proclamations for most of the major Muslim holidays, excluding the ones only certain Muslims celebrate: Behead an Infidel Day, Firebomb a Synagogue Day and the ever-popular Beat the Crap Out of Your Wife for Showing Too Much Ankle Day. Obama has also noted some of the major Jewish holidays; we can’t blame him if Helen Thomas ruined one of them by doing her Hitler impressions for the kiddies.
I, for one, am just fine with Obama’s deletion of a national Easter-specific message. It’s not that I doubt his faith — provided he observes my Constitutional right to worship freely (and that’s one humongous “if”) — I don’t care about his faith. I am, however, secure enough in my own that I hardly require reaffirmation from a mendacious, self-serving socialist. So, while some among my fellow conservatives are outraged by Obama’s omission of a nod to the Son of Man’s final and finest hours, don’t count me among them.
White House spokespuppet Jay Carney reportedly “laughed off” questions about the lack of a Presidential “Happy Easter,” leaving many of Obama’s critics — and they are legion — murmuring about the President’s own religious identity. For all I know, Obama is a Zoroastrian. My educated guess is that he’s about as Christian as many who proclaim themselves so, meaning he goes to church on Christmas and Easter, and maybe Ash Wednesday. (Wouldn’t it be magnificent if for Lent 2012, Obama were to give up talking to George Soros?) The lingering question about Obama’s faith is yet another in the long line of eyebrow-raisers created by Obama’s tragicomic inability to handle even the simplest elucidations without the assistance of a teleprompter and Valerie Jarrett.
Obama is a babbling, Alinskyite buffoon an astronomical distance down the list of people with whom I’d wish to share a religious greeting. I suspect his piety is on a par with someone who “earned” the title of “reverend” by answering an ad in the back of Rolling Stone or one of those televangelist women with drag queen makeup and fright-wig hair.
I neither want, nor need, to hear Obama wish me a “Happy Easter.” Given his flashes of fascist flair, I’m more concerned that he might order me to have one.
No one ever wrote it down; mostly because common decency dictates that it didn’t need to be written down. No matter what your objection to (insert name of political figure to whom you object here), their kids were always out of bounds. Granted, George W. Bush’s children’s antics were as hard to miss as — say — Secret Service agents trying to look innocuous while standing outside the same 7-Eleven where Jenna and Barbara were trying to pass themselves off as 25.
I expect it never occurred to anyone that the liberal element in this country would be so thoroughly consumed by their own rage that they would begin to verbally assault children. And yet, whether it’s Nina Totenberg using the taxpayer-funded airwaves to wish AIDS on Senator Jesse Helms’s grandchildren, or cartoonish depictions of the Bush daughters, welcome to open season on conservative’s children.
If you thought Totenberg’s comments crossed the border between indignation and indecency, let me quote no less a revered sage than Bachman Turner Overdrive:
“Baby, you ain’t seen nuthin’ yet.”
Witness last Monday’s swan dive into the deep end of disgrace executed by Democrat-leaning blogsite Wonkette. While most of Wonkette’s material is fairly rote — the same dull-witted and spiteful drivel which passes for humor amongst a movement that considers Bill Maher funny — a piece by some low-level liberal called Jack Stuef has plumbed previously unexplored depths. The bizarre (even for a Democrat) rant, which carried the subheading “A Children’s Treasury of Trig (Palin) Crap on his Birthday,” is a few hundred words’ worth of unrepentant hatred, politically-motivated venom and unadulterated filth. And all of it is directed at that individual who is evidently viewed with fear and fury by the Democrat Party: Sarah Palin’s Down Syndrome-afflicted son, 3-year-old Trig.
Almost unbelievably, it took the better part of a week of constant outrage — although not from the corporate media, which didn’t think it was worth more than a brief mention — before the bottom-feeders at Wonkette finally deleted the posting. True to form, however, they took to Twitter in a series of remarks which made clear their utter lack of remorse:
“We beat up on Sarah Palin’s craven use of her son as a POLITICAL PROP. Child protective services should take Trig away.”
Trig is a political prop? Was she supposed to lock him in a room in Wasilla with a few dozen cans of strained peas and condensed milk? “See you at the inauguration!”
Much of what comprised Stuef’s offal is so vile that I refuse to subject my fellow Bob Livingstonians to it. To give you a sense of the tone:
“”What’s (Trig) dreaming about? Nothing. He’s retarded…”
Evidently, that’s clever in Democrat circles. Stuef also resurrected the 2008 Democrat campaign saw of questioning Trig’s lineage, overtly implying Trig is a) Sarah Palin’s grandson, b) the victim of child abuse, and/or c) the product of incest between Todd and Bristol Palin.
Those of you who regularly peruse my production for the Personal Liberty Digest™ are already well aware that I, like most who ply the pundit’s trade, consider very little beyond the pale when it comes to skewering those who inhabit the halls of power. But there ought to be limits, people.
Somewhere beyond the breathtakingly inept President Barack Obama, but short his children, a line exists. Perhaps some of you might think less of me for my reluctance, but I’m not going to step on some kid’s neck just to knock the wind out of his or her parents. An examination of Wonkette’s repellent violation of Trig Palin reveals that the Democrats know no such border; or if they do, they have as much respect for it as they do for any border. (Look! An immigration policy joke!)
Wonkette is far from the only soldier in the liberal media elite’s battle for the hearts and minds of… some extremely ill-mannered and stupid people. Z-list “comedienne” Kathy Griffin has essentially built her public persona around a creepy obsession with the Palins. And let us not forget the creepy pseudo-reporter Joe McGinniss, who actually rented the house next door to the Palins so he could conduct an “immersive journalistic investigation.” (As opposed to: “stalk Palin like a deranged lunatic.”)
I’m still not going to make fun of the Obama daughters, if for no other reason than it seems wrong to pick on little kids. Someone ought to send the same message to the Democrats — although I suspect they wouldn’t listen.
Truth be told, there are worse choices for the White House; some of whom aren’t even Democrats. It’s not as if the guy has committed murder; as long as you don’t count the intellectual tenor of primetime television—which was on life support anyway. I just think there are some candidates who are a great deal less… cartoonish. So, someone please pull the plug on the Donald Trump experiment.
I don’t have a real problem with The Donald, but I don’t have a real problem with Trump’s fellow reality TV star Bret Michaels. They’re both marginally entertaining, both surrounded by weird people and hot women and both were bigger in the 1980s. That doesn’t mean I think moderate-to-severe financial issues, tabloid-fodder living and pitiful attempts to hide profound baldness are any higher on the list of Presidential qualifications than—say—being a “community organizer.”
Of late, Trump has been polling in the 30s against a low-to-mid 40s showing for President Barack Obama. Now, before those of you who have climbed aboard the Trump express begin shouting “It’s EARLY, Ben! Give the guy a chance!”—jump back to the 1990s with me for a moment.
About 15 years ago, NBC (which airs Trump’s program “The Apprentice”) aired a sitcom called “NewsRadio.” One of the players on “NewsRadio”—a billionaire named Jimmy James—ran for president. While his prodigious wealth makes his campaign newsworthy, it soon becomes abundantly clear that James is running for President because he “wants to meet girls.”
I doubt Trump joined this fray in order to meet girls. The guy seems to be catnip to women with Winter Olympics-type accents. Plus, Trump may be a player, but he’s not grossly stupid. He surely remembers Bill Clinton’s eight years treating the Oval Office like Craigslist, and all Bubba got was a perjury record and lifetime status as a punch line.
But I cannot shake this nagging feeling that Trump, who has essentially played himself in every modern venue from the gossip pages of the lower-rung tabloids to the upper echelon of primetime television, is playing himself onto the greatest stage of the modern age: The campaign for Leader of the Free World.
Trump self-promotes the way politicians lie. Given his visceral desire for media attention, I suspect that even if he is serious about running and even if he managed to win—a mighty big if—he’d spend more time posing for Presidential photographs than he would actually BEING President. Looking at the sanctimonious buffoon who has the job now, we certainly don’t need another empty chair behind the Resolute Desk.
Many of you have offered an ear to Trump because of his “investigation” of Obama’s citizenship. (Obama’s ham-fisted mishandling of this one has kept it in play. However, barring a miracle, it’s never going to happen for the “birthers.” Knowing what I know about liberal logic, even IF someone were to irrefutably prove Obama was born on Pluto, the Democrats would probably ignore the Constitution… again.)
Trump may be a lot of things, but stupid is not among them. By provoking the “birthers,” he is likely hoping to gain their trust, and galvanize their Presidential blessing. But there are three flaws in his logic:
- The “birthers” don’t represent a large enough subset of voters to swing even a primary.
- He’s making the same mistake as the Democrat Party; he’s underestimating the “birthers'” intelligence.
- The birth-certificate (or lack thereof) issue isn’t going to be enough to hold together a long-run campaign. Obama’s unrivaled incompetence has left the economy idling at the stoplight, the military stretched even thinner than it was when he took office and the nation more divided than it has been since U.S. Grant made Robert E. Lee say “uncle.” Obama’s 2012 successor will need a lot more than just an affidavit from a stateside hospital to grab the political brass ring.
Throw in Trump’s rather checkered past vis-à-vis monetary donations to some seriously shady Democrat characters, and the recipe for a Presidential soufflé falls very flat. Lest you require further assurance, Charles Krauthammer and our own John Myers—two of the smarter cats on the planet—aren’t necessarily buying what Trump’s selling, either.
Closer to November 2012, I’ll share my thoughts on my choice for President. For now, someone call Trump and tell him his latest 15 minutes are up.
From time to time your kids “wander off the reservation.” They do things which you verbally deplore, but laugh about with your friends: “back when we did (whatever you just grounded your brat for), we didn’t get caught.”
On occasion, your children will do things which actually appall, enrage or just plain terrify you. On those occasions, you likely mete out more severe discipline; but share no giggles afterwards. And on still OTHER occasions, your little monsters step over the line between the children you want them to be, and the adults you wish they’d never become.
From what I’ve observed—including observing from the “defendant’s chair”—the latter incidents often produce that all-time great kid-logic: “Why not? YOU do it!” And the parental response almost ends up being some version of “because I said so.”
I remember from my childhood days that phrase also tended to work well on me; if only because if my old man fired that one off, the next step was the dreaded “fingerpoke of doom.” Parents deploy “because I said so” because they can. And kids accept it because they must—Mom and Dad outrank them. Plus, Mom controls the dinner menu; and Dad has that fingerpoke thing.
While you were willing to accept that kind of parental precept, there is no way you’d endure such guff from an employee. And yet, we all take it from President Barack Obama as often as your kids test your patience. Whether it’s an in between golf getaways command for more taxpayer belt-tightening; or another of those “Michelle-is-in-Majorca-and-I’m-dining-with-Oprah-but-the-rich-don’t-pay-their-fair-share” accusations, Barack boasts archetypical “because I said so” bombast.
Last Thursday, Obama, who chose to announce his re-election bid in the midst of his party’s near-submarining their beloved government, was at it again. During a fundraiser in Chicago, Obama proffered another of his “do as I say, not as I do” pontifications. What struck me was not his smartest-guy-in-the-room act; mostly because I can see right through it.
For all Obama’s efforts to avoid any sort of transparency, he’s paper-thin. His play-acting at gravitas is belied by the fact that he can’t order a Happy Meal without a teleprompter. Moreover—if you’ll pardon the expression—he sucks at his job.
What kills me is that he delivered yet another smug sermon about tough times requiring tough sacrifices—and by the way, Republicans are evil—while standing in a restaurant which would bar the door at the sight of the very people about whom Obama professes to care so very deeply. N9ne is a part of a group owned by the billionaire Maloof family—the same folks who own the trendy Palms Hotel in Las Vegas. Enjoy one of the steaks for which N9ne is famous, and be ready to set yourself back about 50 bucks—presuming you drink water and skip dessert.
During Obama’s royal repast, he regaled his sycophants with the usual spiel:
“Right now, there are folks in the Chicago-land area who are… trying to figure out “…how am I going to fill up my gas tank?” And all the tax cuts that we provided to help working-class families… they’re worried about those tax breaks being entirely eaten up by $4 a gallon gas.”
Really, Mr. President? Did you consider asking your devoted acolytes—not one of whom likely arrived in a used car—to skip the $50 steak, order the chicken and give the difference to those “working-class families?”
To be fair, I will stipulate that all Presidents—even the ones who are NOT the darlings of the effete NPR listener set—attend 5-star cash grabs like the one which Obama headlined the other night. (I suspect President George W. Bush never enjoyed them. For all Obama’s laughably stilted “man-of-the-people” posing, W. always seemed more comfortable in the sorts of places where eating with your hands is the norm; whereas Obama looks as out of place in such downscale diners as Rahm Emanuel in direct sunlight.)
Mr. President, your 2008 campaign haul was a record even before you broke your promise to stay within the bounds of public financing. The way you and your Democrat accomplices have performed of late, you’re going to need every nickel.
Quit lecturing us, you supercilious twit. You’ve never met a payroll, never sweated the end of the month because you’re short on rent, and never had to choke down the kind of food they don’t serve in the places in which you and Oprah dine. For that matter—we’re the taxpaying citizens of the United States. Stop talking at us like we work for you, and not the other way around.
Why? Because we said so.