Barack Hussein Obama is in town today hitting up the local Democratic ATMs for the money he needs to keep his regime alive. It’s weird that a wealthy American, to the extent that a Democrat fits that description, would reward this Lying Marxist Bastard for the great harm he’s done to my country, but we are stuck with a system where party is favored over patriotism, just as General Washington warned. These rich degenerates are investing in their party as a means to obtaining personal power. But, in Obama’s case, this is even more particularly an emotional and moral issue. These effete starfuckers (and the lesser fluffers who infest my town) see their support of the President as a validation of their self-regard as open-minded and post-racial. But they are as intolerant and bigoted as any conservative or Republican or Christian they hate on. They may have the kinds of intelligence that great success in business requires, but they have no self-awareness for the racist and classist premises they act on. They believe of themselves what the media and academic and social elites have always told them they are: progressive, right, and just.
In 2008, I told anyone who would listen that there was no way that my country would be so stupid as to elect such a lying Marxist bastard President. But I was grievously wrong; we are that stupid. And we have paid a great penalty for it. I have little confidence that there are enough Americans left among the electorate to make the right decision this time. Incumbency in the hands of men and women without conscience is very hard to dislodge. But if we are true to ourselves and to the Last Great Hope of Earth, we must make some kind of effort at defeating this regime. Our country’s life depends on it.
What if the States (and let’s start occasionally capitalizing that term again if we really mean anything at all by Federalism) that are now caught up in challenging the Obamatons on the immigration question were to pass their own laws very simply making it illegal to violate Federal immigration law within their own jurisdictions?
After all, how could the Federal government sue a State for observing Federal law?
That’s what’s happening, anyway, because it is already illegal to be here —wait for it— illegally! Who knew?
You cannot bring down unemployment or fully institute Government Medicine or address Medicare, Medicaid, or Social Security until you first “comprehensively” (isn’t that a favorite term of the amnesty lobby?) address immigration. There’s no getting around that.
Next topic of interest: asylum cities. Are municipalities to be condoned in their disregard for Federal immigration law while States are attacked by an idiotic President and Attorney General for essentially enforcing Federal immigration law?
I hope these miserable Democrats lose 60 seats in the House. They deserve it.
I heard Richard Holbrooke say the other day that the United States is no longer going to participate in the destruction of poppy fields in Afghanistan. Why? Because, Holbrooke said, it wasn’t accomplishing anything: it was antagonizing the little guys and not depriving al-Qaedists or the Taliban of their funding. And it was a huge waste of money.
In other news, three young people have been murdered in this city in the past two weeks because of marihuana deals gone bad.
Why are young people dying because of marihuana? Why are they going to jail for it?
I woke up this morning with a song in my head that I believe I heard for the first and only time about a week ago. It was from My Morning Jacket’s appearance on Austin City Limits, which is thankfully still in my DVR.
Anyway, I think that “Librarian” is a stunningly beautiful song. The lyrics are rich and wistful and the steel guitar is reminiscent of Dylan’s “Lay, Lady, Lay.” In fact, this song is that song’s precocious but dutiful lovechild.
What beautiful harmonies to awaken to. Thank you, gentlemen.
I’ve just returned home from a few hours in the company of thousands of like-minded citizens and strangers, walking with them from the south steps of the Texas State Capitol down to Auditorium Shores on Lady Bird Lake and back again. I’m no good with guessing crowd sizes, but it cannot have been fewer (”Fewer”? They still use “fewer”?) than 3,000. If someone said 4,500, I’d believe that, too. Hundreds of amazing signs, protest babes, and other memorable sights. We owned the western (southbound) half of Congress Avenue from the Capitol snaking down to the South First Street Bridge and thence to the lake.
Most enjoyable. It is reinvigorating to see so many people want to express themselves —especially in denunciation of sacks of dung like Nancy Pelosi and Janet Napolitano.
Long Live Texas! Long Live the Tenth Amendment to the United States Constitution! (And I wish here to pay my compliments to our state’s governor, who knows how to read them tea leaves prettier than most.)
The local paper is reporting that my alma mater, the University of Texas at Austin, has commissioned a mural by Shepard Fairey, the guy who created Obama’s now-famous “HOPE” icon.
I guess such a bullshit expenditure in tough times makes sense to someone.
Socialist Realism as an artform is unsubtle and just the sort of shit that totalitarian groupies can rally round, but it does have its appeal. For me, much of that appeal is derived from remembering that such charming propaganda ultimately failed. Whatever alien culture or government it once served did not survive —but now it has re-emerged to represent America’s first post-American President to the rest of the world.
I left my opinion where I found the story, but the wankers at the Statesman will probably flush it from the Intertubes, so here it is again:
Fairey’s HOPE poster is an example of Socialist Realism in the manner of Soviet tractor beefcake. Obamachrist himself recognized that two years ago when he embraced it as part of his brand. So right there should have been warning enough to you puny humans that the man is a straight-up cherry cordial.
I went to a prominent local museum this morning with a member of my family to see an exhibit on immigration through the Port of Galveston. There was also a movie afterwards that reminded me in part of the “Chevy Shows” they had at Six Flags back in the 1970s.
The exhibit space and objects were interesting, by and large, but the two young ladies who took us on our tour seemed bent on instructing us, through didactic observations and rhetorical questions, on all the ways America’s White Power Structure made it tough on immigrants. Well, that may be a simplification, but their whole theme was basically that immigration laws are bad and that America should be everybody’s chamber pot. I mean melting pot.
I like looking at pretty young ladies, but some may be better suited to the cosmetics counter at a department store for all their insights on the meaning of the immigrant experience.
My paternal grandfather’s father came to Texas from the militaristic culture of Germany in October 1885. The family first landed at New York City (a fact I did not know until just a year or so ago) and thence probably to Galveston. My great-grandfather’s mother actually gave birth at sea on probably the second leg of their journey to Texas, but the baby did not live long and was buried very soon thereafter in Washington County, Texas where a young uncle lived. My paternal grandfather’s mother came from what is now western Poland a few years later and found employment with the Petzolts. They were all poor dirt farmers who came by steerage and made a new home for themselves a world away from what they knew. We have no idea what wretched conditions these people endured, but we owe them everything.
My maternal grandfather himself escaped with his family from the threat of pogroms and the reality of second-class citizenship when they left Lithuania for Philadelphia (and thence to Pittsburgh) in the summer of 1901. I suspect that my Jewish ancestors, just as my German ones, were glad to be done with the instability of revolutionary Europe and czarist Russia and regarded America as a deliverance from evil. That’s something that needs to be emphasized in museum exhibits and tours on immigration history.
(As for my two grandmothers’ families, their European immigrant ancestors first began to appear in Massachusetts in the late 1620s (Grandma’s people) and in Virginia maybe a generation later (Grandmother’s people). Of course, Grandma was probably a sixteenth Cherokee, so her roots in America are pre-historic.)
What do you call a 30 MPH speed limit imposed on a well-paved, four-lane stretch of road divided by a wide and lush median with excellent sightlines running through an underpopulated subdivision with virtually no cross-traffic from its west?
Now that my Longhorns have beaten the Buckeyes (in one of the worst-officiated games ever, BTW), I’d like to know how the Sooners could even think to lay an outright claim on the National Championship if our records are identical and the head-to-head match-up went our way.
If OU beats the Gators later this week, how can the stupid poll-minders not call it a Co-Championship?
The Statesman’s website is reporting that Michelle Valles is joining KEYE-TV’s morning news program with the so-called avuncular homunculus Fred Cantu. That’s great news because Michelle is altogether beautiful and pleasant. Let’s hope she minds her pints and quarts and makes us proud and perpendicular again.
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