When I was a youngster, I was appalled that in a nation that had been forged by the likes of Washington, Jefferson, Madison and Franklin, political corruption not only existed, but that politicians would attach such a low sales price to their reputation. In one famous instance, during Eisenhower’s administration, Sherman Adams traded his personal honor for the price of a vicuna coat. In retrospect, I guess Mr. Adams knew the actual value of his reputation better than anyone.
The best that can be said for those like Senators Nelson and Landrieu is that they held out until Obama and Reid met their price. By now, I can’t even recall what it took to make Joe Lieberman say “Uncle!” But it just goes to prove that when politicians like these three refer to themselves as moderate Democrats, we should recognize that it’s similar to the distinction made in a related field when call girls insist they’re not streetwalkers. It’s the same profession; only the prices differ.
All the while, smarmy Harry Reid, who should wear a fancy wide-brimmed hat and toot around town in a pimp mobile tells us not to be alarmed, that “it’s merely business as usual.” With that attitude, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised that when the voters in Nevada dump him next November, he’ll be able to land a job with ACORN.
The Copenhagen Conference is long over, but the odor lingers on. Even in the wake of the East Anglia emails exposing global warming to be the most audacious “scientific” hoax since the Piltdown man, hundreds of freeloaders flew into Denmark on fossil-burning jets and then rode around in a convoy of limousines that had to be brought in from neighboring countries to meet the demand. In the course of the expensive farce, these loons gave ovations to Hugo Chavez and Mahmud Ahmadinejad, and insisted that those people, such as you and I, who weren’t still living in mud huts, burning cow chips for heat and eating their neighbors, should fork over billions of dollars to an assortment of thugs, mullahs and tribal chiefs, who happen to be running pig sties posing as nations.
They proved, as if any further proof were needed, that they had the collective I.Q. of a herd of cattle by holding their global-warming get-together in one of the coldest cities in one of the coldest countries on the face of the earth in the middle of December. There’s nothing that says hot-hot-hot so much as a snowstorm and freezing temperatures.
As joyous as I’ll be when Obama and his gang of sewer rats pack up and go back where they came from, I don’t envy his successor. The next person who moves into the Oval Office will have to devote all of his or her time and energy to simply trying to undo the destruction this crew has wrought. Frankly, I don’t know if it will even be possible, but it will be necessary. What I do know is that if the next commander in chief is up to the task, he or she will be the greatest president since George Washington.
Finally, I would advise the Republicans to forge a new contract with America. They can call it whatever they want, but after watching them in action from 2000 to 2006, I see no reason to take them on blind faith. Those bozos controlled both houses of Congress, not to mention the White House, and what did we see? We saw Republicans spending our money like drunken Democrats. And speaking of Ted Kennedy, John McCain and his Republican colleagues treated him with such reverence, you’d have thought he was Ronald Reagan or, at the very least, sober.
You had six years of Republicans pushing amnesty for illegals, lacking even the guts to call it what it was, and parroting liberals when it came to oil drilling in Anwar and building nuclear plants.
So, as anxious as I am to see the Socialists ridden out of Washington on a rail, I want certain promises in writing before I vote for people for no better reason than that they happen to have attached an ® after their name.
For openers, I don’t believe when it comes to politics, anyone is indispensable. So, I want strict term limits for everyone holding elected office. Serving one’s city, state or country, should be a privilege, not a career. If you disagree, all you have to do is consider the fact that 92-year-old Robert Byrd, President pro tempore of the Senate, is in line to be president if Obama, Biden and Pelosi, all dine on the same tainted lobster. Or, for that matter, consider the fact that it’s President Pelosi if Obama and Biden decide to tie on the feedbag without her.
Next, I want full disclosure of everyone the president talks to in person or on the telephone, be it a foreign leader, a union boss, a corporate CEO or a bookmaker. I don’t want to have to wait until he or she is safely out of office and has a book to peddle before I find out who had his ear for the previous four or eight years.
Furthermore, I do not want any bill passed or law enacted that exempts those who foisted it on the rest of us. If those pompous, arrogant jerks think the health bill is so great, they better be ready to live and die with it.
Oh, and about those big fat pensions and those big cushy lobbyist jobs when they retire or get voted out, forget about it! And if they are ever caught voting for a bill they haven’t read in its entirety, they’re going to jail for fraud.
Finally, for good measure, no longer will such a racist, un-American, group as the Black Congressional Caucus be permitted to exist. This is the United States House of Representatives, ladies and gentlemen, not the Trinity United Church or the Mystic Knights of the Sea, even though Charley Rangel does remind me an awful lot of the Kingfish.