Cutting Through The Crap

Friday, November 23, 2012

Stooges



This is what hackery looks like. This is what assholery looks like. Asshole hackery, hackish assholery. Holy asshackery. After their nonstop and made-up mongering of events (and non-events) in Benghazi, the newly reconstituted (because of the imminent departure of Joe "Droopy" Lieberman) troika turned its America-loving gaze to the just announced cease-fire in the Middle East. After taking another swipe at Obama, which they (McCain and Graham, at least) do with each and every beat of their blackened and embittered hearts, they praised the efforts of everyone involved except, you know, the ones that other observers consider key players: President Obama and Secretary Clinton.

I don't know enough about Ms Ayotte to include her in this (although she spends a lot of time with them), but it's clear those two former but always phony moderate males have gone so deep into the recesses of their own hate-fevered and cavernous minds that they'll never emerge. If Barack Obama were to end global warming with a wave of his hand, announce the death, by a laser he invented himself, of every terrorist on earth, patent in the name and for the profit of the people of the US a battery that ran electric cars for ten years without a charge, they'd be critical. Somberly, sorrowfully, sadly like the parents of a wayward child, critical. Righteously, religiously, seriously, self-centeredly and limelight-hoggingly critical. "It hurts me to say this but I have to because, much more than everyone else, I love my country" critical.

Pathetic, is what it is. Sad. We should give them their own street corner in D.C., couple of sandwich boards, two sturdy soapboxes, a pair of megaphones, and let them blather nonstop and unfettered, round the clock. Let's even set up a closed-circuit TV so they could watch themselves, fit it with a Fox "news" logo so they'd believe (because they'd want to bad enough, they would) that they were the only people on that airspace, ever. It'd be soothing to them, maybe, and a balm for the rest of us.

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