Dead Kids and White House Plowshares

 

[THE BOSTON MURDERTHON:  The title way up above for this entry applies to the next section, but the Boston mayhem occurred after I assumed everything was ready to go.  There's not much to say, except I'm willing to be crude enough to ask whether the government would classify this disaster as "workplace violence," as it did the Fort Hood radical Islamic jihad massacre.  No, we don't know who is responsible in Boston as I write this, and of course we offer our deepest sympathies to the people and families involved in Boston.  But I can't help thinking -- this week we experienced the horror of bombs (again) in the USA, and just a few days ago a bonkers college student slashed and sliced numerous people within an inch of their lives on a campus, using a simple knife.  Yet, President Obama and willing state government mockingbirds have a strange preference for turning millions of law-abiding citizens with guns into a new untrustworthy class.  In the meantime, Mr. President, maybe you'd better take less expensive vacations and spend a little less time at the golf course -- and maybe pass up a couple of those elaborate White House concert sessions that sooth your Hollywood friends and other members of the big money crowd who supported your extravagancies -- and actually try to be a leader, instead of an orator spouting blissful dreams saddled with crushing debt.  Prez dude couldn't even use the word, terrorism, during his brief initial speech, instantly urinating off everybody in Boston who knew better, instantaneously, though by the next day his handlers made certain to include the forbidden word -- forbidden since we were informed there was no longer a war on terrorism per se.  Oopsie.  You know, it's not merely that the president is an empty suit when it comes to speeches.  The problem is that the emperor has no clothes.  Period.

The thing is, this Administration has failed us again, gambling away American lives within our borders, and now we all may as well live in Benghazi.  Danger runs rampant while all those billions spent on "homeland security" in the U.S. promise nothing except lots of spying on the innocent.  In no way should you surrender your guns, and I say that as somebody who has no particular interest in guns -- but I demand the unencumbered, established right to have them if I wish.  Unfortunately, this country currently displays publicly a number of political thugs who pounced upon just the right moment to emerge from their cockroach eggs to show us what they're made of, and it's not a pretty sight.

Everything which follows was written well in advance of the comments I made above, and obviously some of this now seems watered down considerably:]

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One thing the Obama White House bunch deals out nearly to perfection is the sympathy card, in lieu of reason and common sense, and when it comes to gaining control over our lives they are absolutely shameless in their attempts, making crucial decisions out of the public eye before prettying or crying them up for a public willingly gripped by hysteria.  This time, or I should say once again, cute little children's faces have been thrust upon the TV news shows and other forms of mass media like chicken feed.  But this time there's a difference, something new, something Newtown, because kids' faces are those of the dead.  And because just enough is hardly ever just enough, parental grief is being trumpeted by this Administration to the max, all in hopes of a colossal government power grab masked by more useless feel-good gun legislation.  Never, ever let a good crisis go to waste.  Why aren't the White House compassionistas shuttling the one (at least one) very vocal pro Second Amendment Newtown father around the country on Air Force One to explain his point of view?  I guess he won't be allowed speaking privileges before the Saturday morning presidential message microphone, though had the Republicans let him speak to counter the White House's April 13 Newtown mother's emotional plea, that would have offered some balance.

 Obama's gang of progressive tear-jerker public relations engineers are just cowardly enough to weave the fibers of dead children into the American flag, their version of the flag, and to use tattered parents like survivors of a poster child massacre.   If utter and honest compassion was involved here, I would feel differently, but I think many of us already know this bunch for its self-perpetuating maneuvers.  Why not invite all the mothers and fathers of military personnel cut down in the Middle East under White House auspices and let them speak about Why Guns Were Important and Essential to Their Kids?  Why not invite mayor Rahm E. of Chicago -- whom they know well -- to explain why over 500 people were murdered there last year despite iron-clad gun laws?  Why not ban automobiles, annually the killer weapons of distinction in the USA? 

 But let's get real -- it's not the murders and it's not the guns.  It's the power grab, and if some very dirty publicity people collaborating with an Administration ridden with more agendas than fleas on a dog can convince the nation that merely a little nip and tuck regarding our basic rights will make us all safer, kiss goodbye to yet another piece of freedom.  In the meantime, hear me well and take heed, because this will portray me badly, but it needs to be said:  If we continue making legislation and changing every little thing in our lives "for the children" (oh, if we can save just one. . .), we'll end up as prisoners in our own homes, afraid to move or speak, lest we offend somebody, or violate some new law we don't even know about.  Or that doesn't exist.  In short, far more dangerous things than guns lurk in the shadows.

But the electronic mainstream media continues to enjoy the firearm and murdered children hoopla, and so it might because TV news ratings and TV viewing in general maintain a steady decline.  We can no longer put our trust in the evening news, and because all major news media in the USA now reportedly suffer and plod on under the thumb of less than a dozen owners, the choices are almost universally bad because they are universally manipulated. 

Tents at the New York State Fair concealed more than freak shows in the sixties (see previous blog entry), and as a kid I also liked to spend some time in the elephant tent with a bag of peanuts, watching majestic trunks descend to grasp a favorite treat.  I've not attended a fair in years, but, like the "freak shows" which disappeared with the times, I doubt that elephant exhibits are as carefree and open as they once were, for the only thing between visitors and elephants then was a "fence" composed of a waist-high rope running horizontally and attached every few feet to little posts.  Yes, the elephants were chained at the ankles, so I suppose safety was somewhat assured.

Yet, I felt sorry for them, confined as they were on a concrete floor padded only with a little straw or sawdust, and the inability to engage in typical elephant activities must have been agonizing, because their boredom was obvious, demonstrated by their constant side-to-side rocking motion where they stood.  What else could they do, besides watch people gawk and feed them peanuts? 

And now nearly 50 years have passed, but the image of elephants has returned -- a terrifying image, as reported by King Broadcasting Co. and other sources last month.  Mass elephant slaughters for tusks of ivory is nothing new, tragically, but this time the International Fund for Animal Welfare disclosed that poachers in Chad killed 86, including pregnant females, in less than a week, merely to take their ivory -- destined, as usual, mostly for wealthy and influential Chinese bastards.  Criminal enterprises in both Asia and Africa have grown and expanded the ivory "industry," and various nations -- particularly China -- have been warned that decisive action must be taken to end the brutality and attractive profit motive involved.  As if they care or ever did.

Which brings me to talk show host and author Michael Savage.  Some of you may know him only from your friends or relatives whose politics get in the way, causing them to tell you he's a monster, a madman, or a bully, steeped in the tradition of talkers Joe Pyne or Morton Downey, Jr.  Actually, that's what I expected, too, when I first encountered him a few years ago on talk radio.  However, if you hang in there with him for a few days or weeks, you begin to realize that, despite all of his sarcasm, anger and tendency to be rude or short with callers, this is a man with both a brain and a heart.  Currently broadcasting evenings Monday through Friday from San Francisco, Savage is no ignorant lightweight.  Indeed, he grew up on the mean streets of New York City -- about which he tells some great stories and has written of them in his books -- and, despite the odds, managed to rack up a Ph.D and two master's degrees.

Savage is a strict conservative, with perhaps just a trace of libertarianism poking through, espousing, to say the least, no love for either the Republicans or the Democrats.  What particularly impresses me, though, is his love of animals.  He and his poodle, Teddy, are shown above.  What one may not anticipate about Savage, however, is his deep love for the world's elephants -- and his marked hatred for the poachers, whom he believes should be shot dead where they stand.

Michael Savage, big ol' brute Savage -- did you know he donates thousands of dollars to protect elephants and pay for intercepting poachers before they have a chance to slowly and agonizingly murder the world's pachyderms?   Yet, despite such good deeds, he was banned from England because they apparently don't like his politics (though Great Britain seems to have no problems allowing radical Islamism into the country).  He's also contributed monetarily, and apparently handsomely, to help defray legal expenses for U.S. military personnel who served in the Middle East, now either facing or already residing in prison because our government put them there.  Which doesn't necessarily mean one belongs there.

Having just published his second spy novel, Savage was already the author of numerous books about the sciences, based upon his education and experiences internationally.  Love him or hate him, Michael sugarcoats nothing and lays his often brash opinions on the line during his show, "The Savage Nation."  And, yep -- he loves the critters, so don't be put off by what frequently seems a harsh exterior.  I suspect that this friend to animals is really a pussycat in disguise.*

When one hand neglects to wash the other, what happens?  The number of people with autism, dementia and Alzheimer's is reportedly rising, creating a real problem as years go by -- in no small part because there may not be enough younger folk to care for them.  So we wonder, if this is what it all comes down to, will the Alzheimer's sufferers care for the autistic, or the autistic for the Alzheimer's patients?  Or will dispassionate robots be in charge before a crisis occurs?  What about those radio commercials selling food that lasts for 25 years in case of a disaster?  In 25 years, neither the dementia-ridden, Alzheimer's-afflicted or autistic may have the ability even to know there's food in those pouches, let alone know how to open the packages.  That's the real disaster, I should think.

CLINTON, BUSH, CLINTON, BUSH, CLINTON, BUSH:  Um, for one thing, Hillary already tried to run for prez, and that didn't work out at all well.  Then there's her history as secretary of state -- solidified during the Benghazi catastrophe and her remarkable failure in trying to solve the world's ills as secretary.  Not to be obvious, but isn't there anybody in America who could run with a fresh face and not be named Clinton or Bush or Kennedy?  Enough already.

Remember the Alamo?  Well, don't bother.  By virtue of immigration "reform" being constructed by the "Gang of 8," because your opinion doesn't matter anymore, history books will need a rewrite.  Clearly, a substantial portion of Mexico's border jumpers will "inherit" a considerable amount of American real estate -- and American taxpayers will continue to foot a rather hefty bill.  The Alamo?  Took a long time, but Mexico apparently won that war after all.  Secure the borders?  That's a funny one.

May I be so foolish as to suggest the creation of a new political party?  Everybody's heard of the GOP, but how about the creation of a new political party,  the GOPP -- the Grand Old :Prison Party?   Prisons, of course, have been around forever, but so have lots and lots of politicians and banker buddies who should be confined within prison walls but, strangely, never quite make it that far because of power, influence and big money.  That needs to change.  Vote for the GOPP.

SUBSCRIPTION RENEWAL REMINDER:   Readers, your annual renewals to this blog are now due, and you may send your payments to. . .wait a minute. . .!!!. . .Well!  Now I know why I'm not making any money off this thing!  Oh, never mind.  Obviously, sometimes literary brilliance comes free of charge. . .

WHAT DRIVES ME NUTS:  Lots of things, but recently I've become even more upset with now as opposed to then.  Time was, you could actually write a letter -- that's a paper thingie with writing on it, like from a pen -- to your member of Congress and get a personal reply.  Now, it's mostly form letters, fraudulently signed by auto-pens, disguised as something Just For You.  And then there's the online nightmare where you can't leave a note until you choose a category -- and then you generally have to narrow the category down.  THEN, if you decide to write a member of Congress who doesn't represent your district, you're out of luck, unless you pony (express) up for postage and return to the days of old where you send. . . a letter.  Nevertheless, I've been known to write those strange and foreign U.S. members of Congress with my views by lying my ass off in the name and address section on the Web so my extremely self-important messages would not be rejected.  I often wonder, though, what happens if some miscellaneous congressional staffer actually responds with a reply mailed to constituent Mr. Chuck Wagonn at 666 Beware St., Cornershadows LA 66666? Well, that's not my problem, is it?

(* Photo from "The Savage Nation" Web site -- see link to Michael Savage)