I've had a blog post formulated in my mind for at least two days now. In keeping with the observance on Monday of a national holiday in honor of an adulterous "preacher" with a fake name and more communist sympathies than a boatload of Bolsheviks, it started with a title: I Have A Nightmare. Believe it or not, I had already come up with a whole page of bulleted items that were just waiting to be fleshed out.
Because it had occurred to me that, if Michael King, Jr. (his real name) wished for a day when his four children would be judged by the content of their character rather than the color of their skin, all the momentous hoopla taking place 495 miles north of where I sit notwithstanding, that day has not yet come.
I would have illuminated the subject by using appropriately pejorative terms such as "hoax," "swindle," "bilk," "cozen," "defraud," mulct," and "bamboozle."
Mr. Obama was elected the 44th President of the United States precisely because of the color of his skin. He certainly had no other qualifications ... and I've never heard even the liberals make noises that it had a whit to do with the content of his character. If anything, the mainstream drive-by media have spent the last couple of years vainly attempting to distract the American voter from any real scrutiny of Mr. Obama's character.
In keeping with the general tone of my post, naturally I planned to cloud up and rain all over the hypocritical liberal Oprahesque Hollyweird celebrities -- who preach to the rest of us about our "carbon footprint" while engaging in conspicuous consumption of global resources on a scale at which you and I can only gaze in wonderment -- converging upon our nation's capital in their Gulfstream G250's, deplaning and tottering on thousand-dollar Manolos over to their stretch limos while the servants manage a raft of Louis Vuitton luggage, to celebrate an event leaving a carbon footprint so massive it would take the average household 57,000 years to match it.
(Not that I care about the alleged carbon footprint, no matter what its size, because the notion of climate change effected by humans is bogus, y'all. Things that live and breathe -- this next part was designed by God -- emit CO2. Always have, always will. His uber-boring inconvenient movie and the Nobel Peace Prize decorating his mantel notwithstanding, Al Gore is wrong -- as are the rest of the environmentalist wackos who profit from this heinous scam.)
Nevertheless I was going to be characteristically smart-mouthed helpful and direct you here so that you could purchase penance carbon offsets to atone pay for your many imaginary environmental transgressions. Most likely I would have illuminated the subject by using appropriately pejorative terms such as "hoax," "swindle," "bilk," "cozen," "defraud," mulct," and "bamboozle," and probably would even have quoted P.T. Barnum -- "There's a sucker born every minute" -- but we'll never know.
I considered pointing out that I'm a trifle irked by the fact that the same liberal media that excoriated President Bush for the $40 million price tag on his 2005 inauguration -- you know, that time he was reelected sans "benefit" of hanging chads -- now gush with the slobbering zeal demonstrated only by elite subscribers to particularly sycophantic personality cults -- the likes of which even Elvis and The Beatles might only have dreamt -- that payment of the $110 million tariff for Barack Hussein Obama's "historic" coronation inauguration was worthy to be deemed a national emergency.
(That means taxpayers are footing the lion's share of a bill that almost -- but not quite -- attains the virtual tonnage of our new President's god complex.)
Mr. Geithner probably could not get hired to man an adding machine at the agency of which he will soon be the de facto master and commander.
I had come up with an impressive litany of complaints about the presumptive Secretary of the Treasury who "forgot" to pay his Social Security taxes from 2001 until 2004, inclusive -- something that President Obama has termed an "innocent mistake" -- and you can bet I would have pointed out that if TG and I commit the same crime make an identical innocent mistake for four years running, Mr. Geithner and his minions at the Infernal Revenue Service will most likely freeze our assets harder than the fingers and toes of the millions of screaming, adoring members of Mr. Obama's ersatz fan club assembled in Washington last night.
(It's weird because although we've never been formally introduced, the folks at the IRS seem to know a lot of really personal stuff about TG and me. Like, where we live and our blood types and the amount of money we make ... and how much of it -- the blood and the money -- is theirs.)
Not to mention, in light of his "innocent mistake," according to the rules by which you and I are forced obliged to live, Mr. Geithner probably could not get hired to man an adding machine at the agency of which he will soon be the de facto master and commander.
That's what you call ironic.
As if that were not enough, I was more than a little disconcerted by President Obama's new pivot-and-proceed policy concerning community organizer Osama Bin Laden. A few months ago Mr. Osama Obama accused President Bush of being so ineffectual he couldn't catch our arch-enemy, instead succeeding only in driving the turbaned terrorist further into hiding. Mr. Obama averred he'd have the weasel flushed out and hanging high within the first 100 days of his reign first term. Suddenly he seems to think it's A-OK if we let OBL hang out in the caves of Afghanistan indefinitely, as long as he's unable to text-message his cadre of eager death-to-America-chanting followers.
Can we really afford to be so selectively dumb? Waffles, anyone?
I intended to wax snide eloquent on the subject of Speaker Nancy Neuroses Pelosi's incessant yammering about how she and Harry Reid, her loyal sidekick, are champing at the bit to prosecute President Bush and Vice President Cheney for war crimes committed while in office. Has anyone checked to see if insanity runs in this poor woman's family? Ah, don't waste your precious energy. If it never has before, it certainly does now.
They always have been, and always will be, among the most exquisite blessings I have ever received from the hand of God.
I was feeling decidedly dour about the bill introduced in Congress on January 6, 2009, by one Jose Serrano (D-New York) that seeks to repeal the 22nd Amendment to the Constitution, "thereby removing the limitation on the number of terms an individual may serve as President" and making it possible for Barack Hussein Obama to be Monarch President for life. That is, if he can get reelected in 2012, 2016, 2020, ad infinitum, ad nauseam, as President Bush managed to do in 2004.
I figure somewhere in there, I would have registered deep discontent over the fact that, thanks to our new President, America is about to become a place where the "rights" of Sodomites are far more protected than the lives of unborn children. We're no longer even going to pretend that we stand for something even slightly more decent and compassionate; I'm afraid those halcyon days are gone with the wind.
(Now it's official: America has a President who, though educated at Harvard, apparently missed the day in seventh-grade Biology where the class learned that if a thing is growing, that means it's alive. And when the thing that's alive is a human being who has never had the chance to harm another living soul, it's murder if you kill it. Humanity 101, if you will.)
I had planned to say that President Obama's hyper-leftist position on the matter of abortion may be based on these and other mysteries of the universe being above his paygrade ... but the point is moot because at any rate, his beliefs in this realm are beneath contempt. He even asserted that he wouldn't want his daughters to be "punished with a baby" if they happen to become pregnant before they're married or before they planned to be mothers.
(Call me crazy, but no matter how closely I examine my experiences bearing and rearing four children, I could never regard any aspect of their existence as "punishment." They always have been, and always will be, among the most exquisite blessings I have ever received from the hand of God. But then, I got married before I was intimate with a man. Tends to color a girl's outlook.)
Adult behavior comes with responsibility that isn't always so easily disposed of as walking into an abortion mill and handing over your money, effectively putting out a hit on your own child. Teach that to Sasha and Malia, Mr. and Mrs. Obama. I dare you to be different.
By the way, in light of his attitude I'm assuming Mr. Obama stands prepared to fund the demise of his own grandchild(ren), if necessary ... and why not? The American taxpayer already bankrolls millions of baby murders in America each year, and President Obama wants us to start paying to kill children in Third-World countries as well.
I thank you for your courage and mettle in the face of liberal opposition, media hatemongering, political malfeasance, and global terrorism.
(What ... the pickings aren't rich enough within our own borders? Immorality, ignorance, promiscuity and selfishness not quite rampant enough to sate our appetite for the blood of society's true victims?)
Oh, and while we're at it, let's repeal every last shadow of any law that might give even a ghost of a chance for protected life to the unborn in our country, unless their own mothers make the inconvenient (and increasingly unpopular) choice to actually love them.
I might have gotten a little worked up about some or all of the above.
Suffice it to say, the post I'd planned was probably not going to be a lighthearted meander down a flower-strewn path leading to the filigreed gates of Happyland. But all of that has changed.
We in the Midlands of South Carolina woke up to a dusting of snow this morning. Looks like God gave the angels huge sifters full of confectioner's sugar and told them to fan out all over Heaven, lightly tapping the stuff down onto our world as we slumbered.
The sight of snow made me feel a tad bit less churlish about this day when I fear my beloved America is advancing to the point of no return on a road that will eventually render it a sad parody of its once-glorious self.
If I'm a bit colder on the outside, I'm somewhat warmer on the inside. This doesn't happen often so I decided to make the most of it. Carpe diem, y'all!
(My burgeoning sense of optimism is augmented by the fact that yesterday, in the last 24 hours of his presidency, George W. Bush commuted the sentences of heroic Border Patrol Agents Ignacio Ramos and Jose Compean. It's about time! The development made me so happy for these brave men and their families, I forgot all my sarcastic observances about MLK day and the crowning swearing-in of a new President.)
So since I decided not to share all of that negative stuff with you, all that's left to say is, farewell, dear Dubya. I thank you for your courage and mettle in the face of liberal opposition, media hatemongering, political malfeasance, and global terrorism. You've made a few mistakes, but so will your successor. We've found that weapon of mass destruction, by the way ... finally! But it wasn't located in Iraq. It's us.
It's us if we don't wake up to the fact that our destiny -- both individually and collectively, both for ourselves and for future generations, both now and for all eternity -- is inextricably linked to the informed choices we willingly make.
Can I buy a snow shovel in South Carolina? You may keep the change.
God bless the Untied United States of America.
