by Teri O'Brien
As noted yesterday, the liberals are at it again, engaging in projection, this time when they characterize ordinary citizens attending town hall meetings as phony plants and shills, taking their marching orders from greedy, evil insurance executives.
It’s not a surprise that liberals believe that any protestor is a paid protestor. They figure they’ve got their screeching ACORN cadres, who when not engaging in vote fraud and shaking down gutless public officials and corporate invertebrates, harass anyone with the audacity to have an actual private sector job, rather than working in “public service” or as a “community organizer.” They know that when they express outrage, it’s just a poseur’s game, designed to gain political advantage through intimidation.
Finally, they are mystified that the mouth-breathing, knuckle-dragging grey mice, the bitter clingers, don’t share their Marxist world view (material things are all that matter), so much so that they keep voting against their own economic interest. One guy who wrote a whole book trying to explain that head scratcher is Thomas Franks, the sort of mediocre writer who compensates for his limited ability with his left-wing outlook. He takes a crack at wielding the liberal bludgeon against the so-called “Blue Dogs.” You guys really don’t get it. Is living inside the liberal bubble like being high all the time?
Speaking of dogs, take a look at this corporate fat cat (the guy in the baseball hat), who no doubt stashed his Gucci loafers in the the backseat of his limo, which he conveniently exited a half a mile away so as not to blow his cover. He points out that B. Hussein took 6 months to pick out a dog, but wants to ram socialized medicine down our throats in 3 or 4 weeks.
I can’t shake the feeling that it’s 1993 all over again. The last former democrat president has gone to North Korea to give the store away to the dead-man-walking North Korean dictator, while the current democrat president tries to leverage the sob stories of its mascots at staged events to pry the 90% of us who like what we have away from our current health insurance. Meanwhile, just as I did in 1993, I will go to a town meeting, where my representative, Congressman Lipinski (not the same guy, but his son, given my state’s system of royal succession) will face my uncomfortable questions and the anger of my neighbors.
For comic relief, we have the buffoonish Secretary of Transportation, Ray La Hood, alum of the Illinois Combine, who is fast becoming my favorite comedian. Take my clunker, please! His latest bit is to hold a summit to answer the burning question: is texting while driving dangerous? This sort of important work is why we spend over $73 billion to fund the Department of Transportation. Questions for future summits planned by Washington’s new comic sensation, successor to Rodney Dangerfield: does eating a dozen doughnuts every morning while driving to work cause obesity? Is it dangerous to stand in front of a speeding high speed train? What if it's light rail?
Query: now that our Dear Leader has rewarded the North Koreans for violating every agreement they have made about nuclear proliferation, and given that the Iranian troll has three hostages in custody, what will they demand for their release.
A clueless, appeasing democrat in the White House, hostages in Iran, and horrific inflation on the horizon. In retrospect, perhaps, it’s not 1993. It’s 1979.
