Heap Big Freakout
No matter how sensible Donald Trump’s policies are, you can count on liberals to run around in circles with their hair on fire, screaming and shouting that the sky is falling and the end of the world is nigh.
No matter how sensible Donald Trump’s policies are, you can count on liberals to run around in circles with their hair on fire, screaming and shouting that the sky is falling and the end of the world is nigh.
For instance, for the better part of a decade, Obama pretended to be waiting for the states, the Army Corps of Engineers and the State Department, to sign off on the Keystone XL oil pipeline, but in the end, anyone who understood how beholden the Democratic Party is to the extremely wealthy members of the Sierra Club, knew it was all for show. He was no likelier to sign off on the pipeline than he was to unlock the vault and show us his college records, his student travel visa or, for that matter, to come clean about his sexual orientation.
Today, President Trump has greenlighted both Keystone and the Dakota pipelines, two projects that will help the economy by providing jobs for construction crews, along with oil that a newly industrialized America will need going forward.
So, naturally, the crazies have been out in force trying to shut down the Dakota project. What’s more, these devout lovers of Mother Earth have turned the area into a trash and garbage dump, and then compounded the sin by setting it ablaze. Funny, how flexible they allow themselves to be when it comes to the very thing they claim to care about the most.
In the meantime, the cost to protect the pipeline workers has soared to $33 million. What’s more, the North Dakota politicians were offering, in the name of Dakota taxpayers, to put the protesters up in hotels and to pay for bus tickets if they would simply leave quietly. Still, the cops had to arrest nine of the knuckleheads who refused to go. Several of the others only left once the cops agreed to make symbolic arrests.
My guess is that the jerks receive bonuses if arrested, even symbolically, from MoveOn.org and the Center for American Progress, a couple of front groups financed by George Soros, the evil octopus who has his filthy tentacles in just about every anti-Trump endeavor in the country.
I’m reminded that years ago, when the American Ad Council was running a Make America Beautiful campaign, they ran a spot that showed a Native American standing by the side of a highway. When some barbarian threw a bag of trash out the window of a passing car, a tear was shown running down the guy’s face.
Today, it’s the Native Americans burning their trash in protest over what they insist are their profound concerns for the environment.
When I try to send email to someone other than my own congressman, who unfortunately happens to be Brad Sherman (D, CA-30), I have to prove I’m a constituent by typing in my zip code.
However, any schmuck seems to be able to crash the town halls of Republican House members, and bring them to a grinding halt. It occurs to me that if they can prevent someone from sending a well-reasoned statement to House Speaker Paul Ryan, they should be able to limit these get-togethers to the congressman’s actual constituents.
I’m not saying that none of the disrupters actually resides in the congressman’s district. After all, they have to live somewhere. But I am willing to wager that if they were properly vetted, there would be a great deal more civility at these events.
For some reason or other, the Washington Post has decided it was time to change its motto from whatever it was (perhaps All the Fake News There’s Room to Print) to Democracy Dies in Darkness. When I heard about it, my initial response was to wonder if that was a motto or their mission statement.
Speaking of our nation’s capital, it recently came to my attention that as bad as things might be in Congress, they can’t compare to what’s happening outside its doors. In the last election, Hillary Clinton received 282,830 Washingtonian votes, Donald Trump received 12,273. That meant she got 90.9%, Trump wound up with 4.1%. Even the collective likes of Gary Johnson, Jill Stein and the other also-rans garnered 15,715 or 5%.
Perhaps the EPA can finally do something useful and check out whether there is a toxic vapor emanating from the Potomac swamp.
Ever since I read “What Not to Name the Baby,” a book written by my late friend, Roger Price, I have understood how much influence a name can have on a person’s prospects in life, and why far too many parents waste their time setting up college funds for their newborn instead of focusing on something really important, such as their names.
Scoff all you like, but surely you’ve noticed that certain names, including last names, convey power and success. Do you think someone named Winston Churchill was going to wind up repairing bicycles? Imagine someone named Ernest Hemingway destined to be a bootblack? Can you picture John D. Rockefeller selling shoelaces or pencils? Of course not.
There are even some names that lend themselves to legendary status. I refer to names like Frank Capra, Franz Kafka, George Orwell, Socrates and George Bernard Shaw, from whence we get Capraesque, Kafkaesque, Orwellian, Socratic and even Shavian, although even I regard that last one a bit of a stretch.
But will Prelutskyian ever fall trippingly off anyone’s tongue when referencing a certain style of drollery? Who are we kidding?
As names go, that one’s as ugly as a spell of lousy weather.
Recently, while watching Tucker Carlson, I learned of the existence on 230 college campuses of something called bias response teams.
If the little cream puffs hear something that offends them — such as, say, the truth — they get to report it to central control, which then sends out collegiate storm troopers who have the authority to dole out punishment, which can involve being forced to attend sensitivity training sessions, face suspension or, I suppose, if you raise a fuss over being denied your First Amendment right to free speech, having the holy crap beat out of you.
If that sounds like something straight out of Orwell’s “1984,” you understand why someone recently suggested that liberals regard Orwell’s classic depiction of an authoritarian regime as a “how-to manual.”
I am happy to report that my latest book, the very wise and hilarious “Angels on Tap,” is now available from Amazon. It is the source for the upcoming feature starring Ed Asner, Marion Ross, Jamie Farr, Ron Masak and Alan Rachins, that I wrote and co-produced.
