Have no fear, beefy brothers and stout sisters! The mighty Michael Bloomberg, mayor of New York City, is on the case even as we speak. Fresh off a victory against the scourge of public smoking, he’s fixed a new target in his sights — one of the truly diabolical demons of the dietary dominion: Soup.
With the exception of the occasional troll who bumbles onto our message boards, liberals are few and far between here in the enlightened empire of the Personal Liberty Digest. Therefore, something tells me the number of Bob Livingstonians who bemoaned the indefinite suspension of MSNBC’s reigning rant-meister Keith Olbermann is lower than the number of transgender census takers working the northwestern Montana survivalist compounds.
The precincts are dark. The campaign signs are already fading. The absentee ballots have submerged beneath the Chicago River. ACORN has returned to teaching “girls” how to conduct “business.” The rough beast is reborn. The GOP is back.
Today we will exercise one of the most fundamental of the freedoms granted us by the greatest assemblage of intellect in human history. Today, thanks to the foresight and forbearance of our Founding Fathers, we rise together to choose the path we shall collectively — and individually — follow into the future.
Democrats, driven to the heights of hysteria by an impending Election Day which may well send Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.) to smaller digs, and her Senatorial Deputy Droopalong Harry Reid (D-Nev.) back to Reno, were literally driven to paroxysms of joy at the images of a purported Rand Paul backer taking President Barack Obama’s own strategy of “stepping on their necks” a little too literally.
As Republicans roll toward a possible capture of both Houses of Congress, and Democrats begin calling the movers and packing their “Most Likely to Win the Convicted Felon Vote” trophies, Ben Crystal decided to add a little pigskin patois to the upcoming electoral proceedings. Read this article for Ben’s take on a few races which are demonstrative of the changing tide of American politics…
Even Stalin didn’t move this fast. It took Uncle Joe 15 years to put an x in the box marked “Trotsky.” Note to Juan Williams: Stay the hell out of Mexico for the foreseeable future.
Pity poor Maureen Dowd. How awful her life must be, carrying the psychic scars of indignities suffered during adolescence so far into her twilight years. Try to forgive her embittered rant against the girls who gave her a hard time in high school.
Actually, stranger than normal things are afoot in the Golden State. Considering they elected a governor who can’t pronounce “Golden State,” stranger than normal is a stretch in the land of fruits, nuts and O.J. jurors.
President Barack Obama’s most recent assault on conservatives is a new twist for the Democrats’ old school tactics of distraction, duplicity and defamation. As a November to Remember approaches in the fast lane, Obama has pulled the handbrake on reason… and steered his party into oncoming traffic.
While Democrats prepare for the winter of their discontent, Republicans are practicing their best end zone dance moves. As a student of history, I thought I might offer a Santayana-style caveat. Presuming November produces the electoral Waterloo the Democrats deserve, the GOP needs to remember the lessons of the past.
Just under a month ago, patriots filled the space in front of the Lincoln Memorial for a demonstration. Fronted by conservative icons Glenn Beck and erstwhile Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin, the Restoring Honor rally was massive. And when I say massive, I’m talking Rosie O’Donnell visiting the Twinkie factory massive.
When firearms enthusiasts get to chatting about their favorite subject, bystanders might as well get comfortable. I routinely enjoy these discussions, if only to see guys nicknamed “Da’ GunZlinger” use “milliradian” in a sentence.
Perhaps the most oft-repeated slogan of the War on Terror is “…fight them there so we don’t have to fight them here.” Irrefutable logic when weighed against the designs of every two bit desert-dwelling nut job with a B-40 and a dream. But what happens if the aforementioned nut job already has the B-40 (or 500 pounds of ammonium nitrate) and the dream; but isn’t dwelling in the desert? What if he’s in Detroit, or downtown Manhattan?
Fox News recently reported White House Science Advisor John Holden was urging people to cease using the phrase “global warming” and instead use “global climate disruption.” Rather than acknowledge that the completely discredited global warming industry was headed out to intellectual sea with the rest of the political sewage, President Barack Obama was resorting to the timeworn trick of repackaging an old product. Read this article for some suggestions on other ideas that could stand repackaging…
Stephen Colbert is a rare breed amongst lefties, a comedian who is actually funny. Compared to lowbrow liberal court jesters like Mike Malloy, Colbert is funnier than Mahmoud Ahmadinejad promising to whip the Marine Corps in a game of “catch the cruise missile.”
Georgia’s 12th Congressional District comprises 220 or so gerrymandered miles of economically and demographically heterogeneous land which includes everything from onion farms to America’s fifth largest port. The person who serves this diverse constituency, noted by the Cook Partisan Voting Index as being D+1 (listing slightly to port), is currently a wealthy trial lawyer named John Barrow.
Call it “televised serendipity”: A moment in which two members of the Democrat Party leadership get together and reveal the political deformities which have turned the “big tent” into a circus sideshow. Under normal circumstances — a President Barack Obama press conference, for example — the groveling sycophants in the corporate media allow these boors to babble on without interruption.
Tuesday’s edition of The Hill featured a piece by Sam Youngman about a Presidential photo-op in fabulous Fairfax, Va. Entitled “President Obama seeks his inner Bill Clinton and feels voters’ pain,” the piece focused on a White House sojourn to the home of an upper middle class family in the aforementioned suburban enclave.
For the eighth time in what increasingly looks like will be his only term, President Barack Obama held forth at a talking point dump, a/k/a press conference. For a man dubbed “messianic” by the liberal elite, I can’t help but notice of late, Obama looks as comfortable in front of the camera as a blind agoraphobic in Grand Central Station during rush hour.
I remember the first time I read Ray Bradbury’s Farenheit 451. I was a prisoner in an 8th grade English class. I also knew I was going to be facing Ayn Rand and George Orwell, with Anthem and Animal Farm looming on the syllabus. The teacher was clearly working on a bit of a motif.
It may not have packed the emotional punch of the last chopper off the roof of the embassy in Saigon, but the word has come down from on high: the last combat troops have left the building.
For those of you lucky enough to enjoy vocations which don’t require endless news and issues research, count yourselves doubly lucky that you weren’t subjected to President Barack Obama’s speech marking the fifth anniversary of Hurricane Katrina’s disastrous visit to New Orleans. Granted, Katrina was hard on the Big Easy, but five years later Obama didn’t repair any damage. He was busy doing damage control.