The Passing Parade: Cheap Shots from a Drive By Mind

"...difficile est saturam non scribere. Nam quis iniquae tam patiens urbis, tam ferreus, ut teneat se..." " is hard not to write Satire. For who is so tolerant of the unjust City, so steeled, that he can restrain himself... Juvenal, The Satires (1.30-32)

Thursday, June 20, 2013

A question

My brother grunted something at me the other day.  He’d been watching the former junior Senator from Illinois blame American business for the unseen rise in costs associated with the former prairie solon’s eponymous legislation and my brother, being the sort of flyover, slope-headed, knuckle-dragging bitter clinging Neanderthal that he is, grunted as he chowed down on his Cheerios and honey [please do not confuse this with the breakfast cereal with very nearly the same name; my brother likes to put the honey on the cereal himself].  Running the grunt through Google Translate an hour or so later at work, I found that what my brother said was this: “Amazing how nothing’s ever that guy’s fault, ain’t it?”

It is amazing, or at least large numbers of people who should have known better in the first place appear to think so these days.  What amazes me, though, is that it has taken so long for so many people to see what anyone who chose to see could have seen five years ago: the One of the Left’s fervid political imaginings and the actual man are two very different people.  The first is a modern secular Messiah sent by whatever God the Left does not choose to believe in today to redeem AmeriKKKa from the original sin of racism, while the second is a left-wing Chicago political hack with all the concomitant commitment to American constitutional rule that one would expect to find in the representative of a Third World tinhorn one-party kakistocracy.  That anyone could have mistaken Senator Whilom for Jesus Christ’s younger brother is, for me, one of the great mysteries of our time.  

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