Post-Debate Trauma Syndrome
I don’t expect that the polls will indicate a huge surge for Donald Trump. I suspect the reason is that long before now, most people have made up their minds. The media, however, will insist it’s because that by saying he might not accept the results of the election, Trump simultaneously turned his back on sacred tradition and expressed a fascistic disregard for democracy.
I don’t expect that the polls will indicate a huge surge for Donald Trump. I suspect the reason is that long before now, most people have made up their minds. The media, however, will insist it’s because that by saying he might not accept the results of the election, Trump simultaneously turned his back on sacred tradition and expressed a fascistic disregard for democracy.
I, on the other hand, don’t see it that way. For one thing, it was the silliest question I heard Chris Wallace ask either candidate. I understand that he didn’t bother asking it of Mrs. Clinton because we all know she would have given a canned response about her patriotic ideals. But there is no excuse for his not following up his interrogation of Trump about his female accusers by asking Hillary, the great defender of American womanhood, how it is she spent years trashing the reputations of the women assaulted by her husband.
Wallace’s question about Trump’s willingness to accept the election results was pointless, but, naturally, the pundits wouldn’t stop gnawing on it. But, really, what did it mean, after all, that Trump might not accept the results? Did his critics fear that after losing the election he was planning to descend on Washington and set his construction crews to work turning the White House into a five-star hotel with his name plastered on the facade?
Heck, I fully expect Mrs. Clinton to easily win the election. But what if her margin of victory was predicted to be razor-thin? Is there anyone over the age of 10 who doesn’t believe that the Democrats would be ready and willing to cheat their way to victory? It’s not as if it’s never happened. It occurred as recently as the Minnesota Senate election in 2008 when the Democrats finally “found” enough missing ballots to ensure that Al Franken defeated Norm Coleman, and then got the uberliberal Minnesota Supreme Court to rule in Franken’s favor.
Just in case, you’re one of those naïfs who thinks that just because something shady may have taken place in a single state is no reason to imagine it could possibly occur in a presidential election, jump aboard my magic carpet while I whisk you back to 1960. Even honest Democrats — and, yes, in olden days there used to be some of those, my son — will tell you that the only reason that Kennedy defeated Nixon was due to ballots that seemingly appeared out of thin air in Texas and Chicago, all thanks to prop masters Lyndon Johnson and Richard Daley.
Heck, you don’t even have to use a time machine to see how corrupt the Democrats are. In 2008, everyone with a TV set got to see steel pipe-toting Black Panthers intimidating white voters in Philadelphia, yet the thugs were never even indicted and placed on trial by Obama’s Attorney General, Eric Holder.
While watching the Las Vegas debate, I found myself wondering if every other poker player in the audience was aware of Mrs. Clinton’s “tell.” Every time Trump or Wallace made a comment that hit a sensitive nerve, Hillary’s reaction was to smile so broadly that we even got to confirm that, like certain sharks, she has a double row of teeth. The bigger the hit, the bigger the smile. No call for a lie detector with this creep; just check for fiendish smirks.
At one point, when discussing what we can expect economically of a Clinton administration, she said “I think we can compete with high-wage countries.” Either they weren’t listening, or else neither Trump nor Wallace thought it worthwhile to point out that it’s not high-wage countries that are killing us. Instead, it’s places like India, China, Mexico and Indonesia, that have helped bring our economy to its knees.
Mrs. Clinton also defended a higher minimum wage by saying “People working fulltime shouldn’t be stuck in poverty.” Well, it may come as a shock to Madame Secretary, but people working fulltime aren’t stuck in poverty. Or at least they weren’t until ObamaCare saw to it that “fulltime” went from describing a 40-hour week to one that lasted only 28 or 29 hours.
If I were in charge of the economy, the first thing I would do is make certain that those who aren’t working at all would be deprived of a certifiably insane welfare program that provides them with the equivalent of $50,000-a-year in goods and services by enslaving America’s middle class.
Although I thought that Trump did a decent job in Vegas, I couldn’t believe that even after going after Mrs. Clinton for inviting thousands of Muslims into our country, it was left to Chris Wallace to mention that according to Wikileaks, at a conference of Latin American bankers — no doubt contributors to the Clinton Foundation — Mrs. Clinton had said that her dream was for open borders in the Western Hemisphere.
Trump also let her get away with claiming that 90% of donations to the Foundation are passed along to charities, unless of course she was alluding to the popular adage that charity begins at home.
Which reminds me that I recently sat through what I regard as one of the 10 greatest dramas ever produced, “The Untouchables,” for the fifth or sixth time. At one point, a Chicago alderman, at the behest of Al Capone, enters Treasury agent Eliot Ness’s office with an envelope filled with cash.
Ness not only tosses the envelope back in his face, but reminds him that in ancient Rome, those found guilty of offering bribes to public officials, as well as, I presume, those accepting them, had their noses cut off and were then tied in a sack with a wild animal and tossed in the river.
Except for sacrificing a perfectly innocent animal, I’d do the same, unless I was in a particularly nasty mood. In which case, I might place such a person in solitary confinement. No light. No company. And the only sound, that of Hillary Clinton’s witch-like cackle.
Speaking of the Clintons, when I consider the villainy they have committed in every aspect of their putrid lives, I can’t help wondering what Shakespeare would have made of them — or the ancient Greek dramatists, for that matter. If these two creatures had been born in an earlier time, today the greatest actors alive would kill for the opportunity to portray their villainy on stage and screen. Yet today, most journalists refuse to even report on it.
But, then, today those who call themselves journalists and reporters are nothing more than propagandists for the radical Left. Otherwise, every newspaper in the land would be clamoring for Obama’s head on a platter. After all, thanks to U.S.-imposed sanctions, the number one state sponsor of Islamic terrorism was actually on the verge of economic and political collapse until Obama zoomed in like Mighty Mouse to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. It was he who provided Iran with a windfall of nearly two billion dollars and a clear pathway to a nuclear arsenal in a sweetheart deal with the Ayatollah.
For that reason, I would suggest that if Israel ever lets us know that Iran has its nuclear bomb and a missile capable of bringing it to our shores, we all make a beeline to wherever Barack Obama is hanging out on the chance that his pals in Tehran decide to extend Obama the professional courtesy of not incinerating him along with the rest of us.
Unfortunately, the message Israel sends us might be in the form of a mushroom cloud rising from the fiery rubble of Tel Aviv.
In response to a few readers who thought I might have been guilty of recently jumping to unfounded conclusions regarding Obama’s sexual preferences, I wrote: “Let me remind you that whereas every other woman in North America has come forward to denounce Donald Trump for kissing, hugging and groping them, not a single woman after all these years has ever come forward to claim her 15 minutes of fame by revealing she had ever even shared an ice cream soda with young Obama.
"It was only when, on the verge of turning 30, Obama decided to enter the political arena that, like a rabbit popping out of a magician’s top hat, suddenly there was Michelle arriving on cue.
"But you’re certainly free to come to your own naïve conclusions.”
