THE POISONED POND

The candidates tell four kinds of lies – maybe more but I’ll deal with four. The first kind are what Huckleberry Finn called “stretchers” and all four – Obama, Mc Cain, Biden, and Palen, tell this kind of lie. They take a grain of truth about themselves or their opponents and puff it up with lies.
The second kind are the Gabby Hayes variety. They are similar to the first kind except that these lies are wholly made up. They are of the sort people tell in bull sessions: “yeah charlie, I was right there when the Bambino hit number sixty – I can show you the ball.” I can’t remember any of this variety that Mc Cain has told, or Palen either for that matter. Obama on the other hand has told us that the banking committee is “my committee.” He’s told others too. Biden tells us he was shot at in Afghanistan – yeah Joe, there must of been thunder in that snowstorm.
The third kind are lies of ignorance. Maybe we shouldn’t call them lies, since the tellers believe them to be true, the lie is in the pretense that these people are knowledgeable on the subject about which they speak. I’m sure that by this time someone studying for their citizenship test has told our Harvard graduate that there are actually only fifty states – not fifty-seven or fifty-eight. Maybe his Acorn people are overcharging him for election rigging.
I would also suspect that some home-schooler has informed the education guru from the University of Delaware that FDR was first elected president in 1932, three years after Joe had him on Television – which, for any practical purpose didn’t exist in 1929 or 1932. Joe gets a pass from pundits on these things because they have known for a long time that he’s just plain dumb. Don’t get me wrong, Mc Cain and Palen have also had their flashes of less than brilliance.
Call me cynical if you will, but I have come to expect and accept these lies from politicians. I also accept that they promise things they can’t and won’t deliver when elected. I put no confidence in political boasts and political promises.
But there is another sort of lie that is told and it is neither universal nor easily accepted – at least by me. That is the cover-up lie. Obama is guilty of a very serious cover-up lie.
When the issue of his relationship with William Ayers was first introduced, Obama passed it off casually by saying that Ayers was just someone who happened to live on his street and that they were not ‘close’. That was a lie. We now know that when Ayers created the Chicago Annenberg Challenge he turned to Barack Obama to be the chairman. It is surely impossible for the most credulous fool to believe Ayers didn’t know Obama well and that he did not have confidence that Obama was of like mind with him in political matters. Come on people! Surely you’re smarter than Joe Biden.
Nobody can possibly be so stupid as to believe that Ayers did not consider Obama a fellow traveler with him when he sponsored a fund-raising event for him. And unless you think Obama is as dumb as his running mate you can’t possibly believe he didn’t know Ayers’ history and the fact that he has never changed his mind – he still wants to overthrow the government of the United States, he has merely laid aside the bombs in favor of his Manchurian Candidate.
Why did Obama lie about Ayers? A prosecutor would call the lie “consciousness of guilt.” It was a cover-up, an attempt to hide a fact which he knew reveals something about him that all his promises and high sounding rhetoric cannot hide. To be generous, we now know that Obama is a political radical – a dangerous radical – one who can wink at acts of political terrorism, pass them off as matters lost in the past. At worst, he is a man with an agenda that should make us shudder.
When faced with the facts of his relationship with Ayers, Obama says it’s just “guilt by association” – you bet your Acorns it is. His surrogates immediately say, “yeah but Mc Cain was implicated in the Keating Five scandal.” (Okay, I’ll trade you one Tony Rezco for your Charles Keating, you still owe me one terrorist and one racist madman.) These answers are almost as alarming as the facts they are intended to cover up. Consider this: Obama and his people see no difference between acts of political terrorism against the United States, acts that resulted in murder: and the Keating financial scandal (also ignoring the fact that Mc Cain was exonerated by the Democrat prosecutor).
I am deeply frustrated by the fact that, in the aftermath of 9/11 people are tolerant of terrorism in the United States. Tolerant to the point of voting for a political crony of a terrorist for the highest office in the land. Yes, I know Ayers is endorsed by supposedly respected institutes of higher learning, but we have already seen the real product of those institutions – they don’t care whether their graduates know any facts, just so they march in lockstep with the radical political agendas of the institutions – God help America.
When one looks objectively at the people who support and influence Obama and the organizations, such as Acorn, which he supports and influences one gets a real look at the policies of the hidden man. He is like a pond; the water that flows into it is poisoned, the water that flows out is poisoned, but we are asked to believe that the pond itself is pure and wholesome. If we drink the water we shall learn, all too late and all too painfully, that the pond is poisoned too.

Walking the Wall

Without a lot of details – the statute of limitations may not have expired – I’ll tell of the foolishness of childhood. There was a place where a narrow wall connected two buildings. The wall was about fifteen feet high and I have no idea why it was built in the first place; it seemed like a waste of brick and mortar.
However, for reasons of their own - reasons better not discussed here - three boys, two twelves and a thirteen, were in the habit of crossing over on top of this wall. Beneath the wall on either side was a hard cement pavement. Those were the days when adrenalin addiction was fed by personal experience rather than frantically manipulating colored shadows through imaginary threats. A fall from the wall could have really meant “game over.”
The three boys had all learned balance beam skills on the tops of fences. They had learned by failures and successes that when one walks a fence or the top of a wall, one doesn’t pay attention to what’s on one side or the other, one fixes the eyes on the end of the fence or the roof of a building at the end of the wall.
What, one may ask, does this have to do with politics? I write this in an effort to explain one of the candidates for president. Radio talk show hosts, Republican and conservative (the two are not necessarily synonymous), are frantically urging John Mc Cain to take a stand on the economy, to fight back, to expose the culpability of Democrats and, more importantly, to expose how failed liberal ideology is the driving force behind the present credit crisis. What the talkers fail to take into account is that John Mc Cain is a fence walker. He isn’t looking at liberalism or conservatism, he’s looking at the end of the fence.
We may complain about ideology-driven politics, but the fact of the matter is that without an ideology to set one’s course the only destination is the end of the fence. Mc Cain likes to boast of being a maverick, of reaching across the aisle to Democrats – very liberal Democrats – to pass liberal bills. Then he claims to be a conservative. The boys on the wall would understand. When you’re about to stagger right you wave the left hand to reestablish balance, when you’re about to stagger left, you wave the right hand, but the real goal is to go neither right nor left.
Mc Cain has taken firm stands on some issues: the war and the abortion issue for example – he has also taken a firm stand on limiting free speech via Mc Cain / Feingold. But when it comes to the economy, which is after all the real rudder that will turn the ship of state either toward socialism or freedom, Mc Cain keeps his eye on some distant point that he imagines to be somewhere between the two.
Obama on the other hand, is ideology-driven. I shudder when I think of what I believe that ideology to actually be. To be the least alarmist let us say he is driven to turn us to the left, toward socialism. He’s getting plenty of assistance from Congress – Democrat crooks and Republican fools are hurrying to help him turn the wheel.
But I am not writing about Obama, I’m writing about Mc Cain. He has said he doesn’t understand economics – he tells the truth. He doesn’t understand and he obviously doesn’t trust conservatives to educate him on the subject. I think he doesn’t consciously adopt the philosophies of John Maynard Keynes, the man who inspired the end of the gold standard in America and started us on a decades-long game of monopoly, but he has just cast a very Keynesian vote for a very Keynesian bill. Well, the game may be over and when the board is folded you can’t buy bread with monopoly money.
When Mc Cain has fallen off his fence he has landed in someone’s yard – Republican sometimes Democrat at others – but now he’s on a high wall that firmly separates right from left. When he falls he’s going to be hurt. Please John, look over there, conservatives have lifted a ladder for you – please come down before you fall.

Buttermilk and Biden

Waking in a cold sweat I quickly recapped the dream before it could fade from memory. What was it that frightened me out of my slumbers? Ah, there it was, Joe Biden in drag. Aaagh!
There he was, standing next to Barack Obama, who had a big cigar between his fingers and a big smile on his face. He said, “Say goodnight Joey.” When Joe replied it was with the voice of Gracie Allen, “Goodnight Joey.”
When I stopped trembling I tried to analyze the dream. I blame it on listening to a collection of Joe Biden outtakes and having a glass of cornbread and buttermilk just before bed. No more Biden outtakes for me – not that late at night.
But I got to thinking. This pair really does remind me of some of the famous entertainment duos. Can’t you hear Joey speaking with the gravel voice of Pat Butram, “wayl Mr. Artery whadawe do now?” Or with the mush-mouth accents of Gabby Hayes, “Gol-durn it Roy, you cain’t let them bushwackers get away with that.”
Well, I was awake anyway so I spent the rest of the night playing the game of putting Biden’s head on the body of some comic sidekick and listening to him deliver his gaffes in the various voices while Obama played Gene Autry, Roy Rogers, George Burns and others; always trying patiently to go forward with the serious business while inexplicably tolerating the foolishness of his chosen pal. It was a lot of fun – try it.
There was Martin and Lewis, Laurel and Hardy, Bob Hope and Bing Crosby, Desi and Lucy – aagh theres that disturbing image that woke me in the first place. A couple of my favorites were Leo Carillo as Pancho saying, “Oh Ceesco” and Duncan Renaldo as The Cisco Kid replying, “Oh Pancho.” Of course in my buttermilk drenched imagination it was “Oh Bama” and “Oh Pepe.”
Some reporters have wondered why Saturday Night Live keeps making funny skits about Governor Sarah Palin but never picks on Barack and his faithful albeit rather dumb sidekick Joey. What could they do? No comedy writer could top the things that these two just do naturally. Obama says, “John Mc Cain can’t even use a computer.” Joey says, “That’s awful – the man was crippled in war. Well I didn’t actually see the ad so I guess it’s okay. Stand up Chuck.”
Still, if SNL wants to try a skit, they could have Barack trying to explain the positions on a baseball team to a flustered Joey who gets ever more shrill, saying, “Who’s on first?” Barack: “That’s right, Who’s on first.” Joey: “What’s right?” Barack: “Who’s on first.” And so forth. Maybe better yet, have Joey running in terror through a zombie infested castle screaming “Obaaaama.”
Well, it’s bedtime, I need a glass of buttermilk.

SO MUCH TO BLOG; SO LITTLE TIME

Where to start?
Let’s try this: Pelosi lied – bad bill died. Speaker Pelosi thought this crisis was not about Wall Street or Main Street (I’m so sick of hearing that phrase) – it was about Pennsylvania Avenue. To her it’s just all a big political game. When John Mc Cain was on his way to Washington to be involved in debate, which incidentally is what he gets paid to do, Nancy and her assistant, old man Harry, stepped out to announce that a deal had already been made – it was a lie. It was a lie that didn’t sit well with Republicans. Then she stood in front of the house and blamed this mess on the Republican administration – another lie. It was a lie that didn’t sit well with Republicans. She said she had 120 votes from her Democrat Party members to pass the bill – she lied. It was a lie that didn’t sit well with Republicans. Three strikes and you’re out.
Strike two was a close call. Bush does share the blame. He should have been a more insistent critic of the way Barney Frank and Chris Dodd didn’t adequately oversee their delinquent kids, Fannie and Freddy. He should have brought the matter to the direct attention of the American people the way Ronald Reagan would have done.

When the dust settled today the American people had taken the reigns of their government firmly in hand. They snatched the bit from the teeth of a runaway horse and said a firm “whoa” to a team that was about to send the wagon plunging over the precipice.
The main reason the bad bill failed is that Americans aren’t the stupid clods the Democrats and some Republicans think they are. They mostly haven’t had the disadvantage of going to Harvard or some other left wing indoctrination tank. They recognize socialism when they see it and they’d rather take their chances in a capitalist recession than socialist slavery. Power to the people. To the barricades mes amis, it’s time for pitchforks and torches. Retire incumbents.

Congress may devise a bill that their constituents can endorse. They may not; we’ll see. It may be that no bill can solve the problem. The crooks and fools in Congress and on Wall Street may have delivered wounds too numerous to be healed by any prescription the doctors can concoct. We know we are in for tough times no matter what – everybody with any sense is assuring us of this. Will it be tougher without congressional action? We will never know the answer to that. But we do know that the capitalist system that has made ours the greatest, most prosperous and generous economy in all of human history will recover in time – it always has. If the government kills that amazingly successful system, replacing it with a socialist imposter we will find ourselves in the same position our European brethren enjoy – a position where the government takes most of the product of our labors and doles out what it thinks we need.

You're right John

After the debate my wife was trying to visualize the junior senator from Illinois sitting face to face with some world leader. It opened an interesting conversation. She could see the young fellow sitting across the table from Queen Elizabeth, saying “So how are things in the kingdom Lizzy?” Of course he would be on first name terms with Mahmoud – Mahmoud would even understand the meaning of Obama’s name. (Yes, I know Ahmadinejad’s native language isn’t Arab, but Pharsee, but any good Muslim knows enough Arab to understand Obama’s name.)
I have acted as interpreter for some people who don’t speak English – it isn’t easy. I’d hate to try to interpret for someone who uses “you know” for a semicolon and uses lots of semicolons. I always deducted points from students who used “you know” and “like” in their sentences. Yes, I realize they were using these phrases because they needed extra time to think about what they were about to say, it’s just that I expected them to come into class prepared to speak directly on the subject.
So, back to the neophyte phenom from the Chicago political machine. Will he sit across the table from Putin, Chavez, Castro, et. al. and say, “uh, ya know, Vlad, uh, we don’t actually approve of, uh, what, you know, uh, your troops, uh, are, uh, doing, you know, in Georgia?”
Now there is something Obama has said that I agree with, although I don’t see its pertinency in a political speech. I agree that Americans are woefully behind the rest of the world in their command of world languages. On the other hand, I’d like to hear Obama speak his own language with a bit more fluency. After all, he studied law at Harvard. Surely they taught him forensics. How would he do in a courtroom? “Uh, Sam (that’s the judge), you know, uh, I object, uh, to, uh, my learned, you know, opponent, uh, saying, uh, his client, uh, is innocent.”
My advice to Obama – stick to the script and get good scriptwriters, when you’re on your own you sound like a freshman.

Politics on the Prairie

We’uns is enjoyin’ our retirement out here on Orwell Acres. It ain’t no retirement village like what they have down in Florida, it’s a hobby farm owned by our son and his wife where we have a house on one corner. I reckon I could make me a golf course on it if I was a mind to; which I ain’t – golf’s just a waste a good fishin’ weather.
We live in the midst o' that big meadow they call the Great Plains. Once they get the corn down we’ll be able to look out at our bedroom winder an' see the big windmill farm 'bout ten miles away. Big silver trees that look like the landscape of some star wars planet an' when we get a red sunset its kinda romantic lookin’. ‘Course at night we can’t see the windmills themselves, just the cluster a red lights that tell airplanes they’re there. Sure we got us airplanes out here, they scare the beejeebees outta the animals when they’re a-dustin’ off the crops in our neighbors’ fields. I swear one of ‘em dragged 'is landin’ gear ‘cross the barn roof one day while I was inside. Gave me the same sensation Chris Matthews had when he first heard Obama fling out one a his speeches.
We see big planes too, but they don’t look very big ‘cause they’re so far up there when they go by. We know they’re there mostly by the way they scribble up a perfectly clear blue sky with their dadburned con-trails. It occurred to me the other day that if they was to land one a them planes out in Mike’s hay field it would double the population of the county. But they won’t do it. We’re in what the smarty-pants in Noo Yawk an’ Sam Friscer calls “fly-over country.” Them smarty-pants would be eatin’ sewer rats if it wasn’t for this here fly-over country. When they smear their corn-based margarine on their whole wheat muffins they ought to thank the God they don’t believe in for these hard workin’ farmers in fly-over America. Even their tofu is made from the beans that are bein’ harvested down the road right now.
Folks ask me what population centers we live near. I reckon the international space station is about as close as any other – and nearly as populated. It’s twenty-five miles to the nearest traffic light and it’s just a part-timer. Changes from green t’ yeller t’ red durin’ the day (lotsa fun t’ set an’ look at on a slow day), but come nightfall it goes t’ just blinkin’ red. You can see her nearly ten miles off on a dark night ‘cause there ain’t no curves nor humps in the road t’ block your vision.
Bein’ a hillbilly I do get homesick for the mountain where we lived in Arkansas way long time back. When the nostalgia gets real bad I drive over t’ the high school where they have a ball diamond and walk out on the pitcher’s mound just t' have me somethin’ t’ climb. Y' sure can see a long way from up there.
After y' get t' the traffic light I was mentionin’; y’ must know – if y’ know anythin' atall ‘bout America – t'won’t be much further t' the Wal-Mart store. The wife has a thing ‘bout Wal-Mart. We even had to hunt one up when we were in Mexico City. Funny thing is, that one had signs in Spanish and English. Reckon do the people that live down there complain ‘bout the foreigners that don’t speak their language?
The wife used to have a sign over her desk at work that said, “if you don’t find me here and I’m not at home, I’ll be at Wal-Mart.” There was one day she’d gone out an' I needed t' get in touch with her. This was way back when we didn’t carry telephones in our pockets. I just called down t’ the Wal-Mart an’ gave the lady my wife’s description an’ asked had she seen ‘er. She said, “you must mean Shirley – I’ll call back to the craft department.” ‘Course that’s right where she was. She was so well known there she had her own parkin' space.
Fact is, she used t’ work at a Wal-Mart – back when we lived in a suburb of St. Louie. She was one a those that rang up the merchandise and took the money. That was way back before they taught the check-out counters t’ read an’ write, so she had t’ actually ring the stuff up her own self. Doncha wonder why a country that can teach machines t’ read an’ write can’t teach its kids?
I don’t want folks t’ think we’uns don’t have nothin’ t’ do here or that we’uns is disconnected from the rest o’ the world. Amongst all of us we put in a really big garden an’ we got a whole pantry full a canned food an’ the wife done made the most bodashus apple butter from the tree outside her studio winder an’ we got a big ol’ crabapple tree that my wife she made a load a jelly from it t’ smear on homemade biscuits – Oh my goodness that Jelly’s good.
Our son and me, we raise our own meat (WARNING! PETA folks may find the following discussion disturbing to their peace of mind – I sure hope so). We built us a goat pen over on the North side of the property – we call it ‘the studio.’ Our flock a Nannies we call ‘the view.’ ‘Course the alpha nanny – the one what bosses the rest of ‘em around, tol’ us her own name right off – said “Bah-bah-wah-wah” plain as day and all the rest of ‘em went t’ chantin’ in unison, “Bah-bah-wah-wah, Bah-bah-wah-wah.” So we knew she was gonna be the boss lady of the flock. She’s in the family way now and so is Whoopi – ol’ Slick Billy has a smug look on ‘is face.
Since she’s eatin’ for three (goats generally have twins) Bah-bah-wah-wah wants more than her share of the food and sometimes gets grouchy – soon's she catches ‘Lizabeth at the manger she’ll just lower her head and butt her away so she can have more – Whoopi, she does the same. Its real funny when there’s nannies at both ends a the manger an’ Bah-bah-wah-wah spends all her time runnin’ from one end t’other a-buttin’ them away but never gettin’ t’ eat ‘cause she’s ‘fraid one a them others is gonna get t’ eat. We humans could learn a lot from goats and I reckon we have.
We had one name of Rosie but she never had no kids so we ate her. Did y’all know that 70% of the meat eaten on this here warmin’ up globe is from goats?
Goats aren’t all we have here on Orwell Acres. There’s a big ol’ Holstein steer name of Porter. The grandkids named him that ‘cause they understand what he’s doin’ here. Not like kids in Phillydefya an’ Lost Angels that think hamburger comes from the back end of a McDonalds. These kids have seen hogs butchered an' deer dressed out. Theirs is not a ‘virtual’ world. Reckon Sary’s kids has seen moose an’ caribou skinned. I hear Polar bear tastes purty good, but for my own part I like a black bear roast with horseradish.
Porter is the most political of the animals on Orwell Acres. A feller can’t hardly walk where Porter’s been ‘thout gettin’ inta a bunch a political speeches – that’s what we call ‘em ‘cause y’ can’t tell when the kids might be a-listenin’. That two-tone calf makes more political speeches than Barack an’ Joe put t’gether – better ones too. It’s s’ bad I have t’ take off my boots ‘fore goin’ inta the house an’ I scrub ‘em often. I always scrub out my ears too after listenin’ t’ one or t’other a these here polytishuns.
Somebody asked if I wasn’t bothered by the smell. Well, I got used t’ the smell a the steel mills in Cleveland an’ the smell a the Orange Juice plant in Florida, I can get used t’ ol’ Porter. It’s the stink a them polytishuns I can’t get used to.
Lately we’ve made an investment in Freddie Mac an’ Fannie Mae. Freddie’s a barrow an’ Fanny’s a gilt. For you folks that think a gilt is some British bond it’s not. An’ for you folks that think the only British Bond is named James, a British treasury note is named after gilts. They’s pigs y’all, pigs – we’uns gonna be feedin’ at the Freddie Mac an’ Fanny Mae pork barrel jus’ like them high fallutin’ Harvard boys settin’ round in the senate blowin’ farts at one another. Last year’s hogs has nearly all 'scaped the freezer, one pork chop at a time. Don’t none a y’all let on ‘bout Freddie an’ Fanny t’ them PETA folks.
Oh Darn! Y’all pardon my language please. It’s ol’ Porter. Just like a polytishun, he’s done got over inta Fannie an’ Freddie’s pen an’s eatin’ up all their food. I got t’ go run ‘im out in the congress (that’s what we call the pasture) so he can live off the fat of the land and make lots more political speeches.

GI John and the Hockey Mom

Barak Obama chose Joe Biden for his running mate and the pro-Obama media applauded – after all, Joe is Roman Catholic and that’s a voting block Obama needs. But wait a minute. Doesn’t the Roman Catholic Church teach against abortion? Aren’t they the leaders in the pro-life movement? Won’t Biden try to take away a woman’s right to kill her unborn baby? How about homosexual marriages? Doesn’t the Roman Catholic Church teach that homosexuality is sinful? Don’t they speak out against homosexual marriage? Won’t Joe stand in the way of a homosexual visiting his partner in the hospital?
Not to worry. Joe doesn’t believe what his church teaches. He may take communion in a Catholic Church but he doesn’t really believe any of these politically inconvenient teachings.
Well, what about Obama himself? Hasn’t he attended a Black Liberation Church for twenty years? Doesn’t his church teach that The United States is the USA of KKK? Doesn’t the pastor curse the United States from the pulpit? Don’t they despise white people and accuse the government of spreading A.I.D.S. among the black population? Won’t Obama have a racially divisive agenda? Isn’t he anti-American at heart?
Not to worry. Barry tells us he doesn’t believe what his church teaches. He may take communion in a radically racist church. He may even commit his children’s religious training to that church, but he doesn’t really believe any of its politically inconvenient teachings.
Well, what about Sarah Palin? Isn’t she an Evangelical Christian? Aren’t they the ones who, like Biden’s Catholic Church, teach that abortion is wrong and homosexuality is sinful? Surely, Palin just stops by the church to take communion, not to receive any religious instruction or inspiration – right?
Not to – oops – Sarah Palin actually believes what her church teaches, actually structures her life according to those teachings, even when it means undertaking a lifelong burden to preserve the life of a human being and even when the teachings are politically inconvenient.
There’s a word for people who claim a religion as their own, but neither believe nor practice what that religion stands for – the word is hypocrite. According to their fawning media surrogates Obama and Biden are good choices because they are hypocrites, Palin is a bad choice because she is sincere. Interesting set of moral values wouldn’t you say?
I want to elect a president with integrity and I want a Vice President who has integrity as well. I believe John Mc Cain to be a man of integrity – one who doesn’t attack old friends just because they have become rivals for a political office. He doesn’t say much about his religious faith but he has given us no reason to believe he is insincere about it. He is certainly sincere about the abortion issue. He speaks from only one face about that and about same sex marriage.
Sincerity should be a big issue in this election, especially for those who consider voting for Obama. He tells us where he stands on a number of issues and he assures us that he actually loves America. He has no record to back these statements; as a matter of fact the record should cause us to wonder about his love of America. But he gives us his word, assures us of his commitment and wants that to be enough for us. My question is this: if he is admittedly insincere about his religion, why should I believe he is sincere about his policies? Frankly I don’t.
As for Biden, he has told us that Obama is not ready to be president, now he says that he is. Was he sincere about the earlier statement? Is he sincere about his change of heart? If the man is not sincere about the religion in which he hopes to find salvation for his soul, why would I believe him sincere about mere politics? Frankly I don’t.
Maybe some Catholics are so shallow they will vote for Biden just because he’s Catholic, maybe some black people are so shallow they will vote for Obama because he’s black, maybe some women are so shallow they will vote for Palin just because she’s a woman, I will vote for her because of her sincere commitment to her principles, and I will vote for Mc Cain because of his proven integrity.
GI John and the Hockey Mom!