Category Archives: Satire

My Epiphany

All right, many months into his presidency, I have come to realize that I was completely wrong about the president.

He is not an empty suit, as I once claimed. Through his brilliant leadership, and unsurpassed powers of persuasion, he has shepherded legislation through the Congress that will make all of our lives and health better, and for which we will all be grateful as a nation for decades to come.

I was once skeptical, but I was a fool. This legacy, just the first of many — beginning the healing of the planet through long-overdue constraints on carbon emissions; finally allowing the working man to be a union man as God and Jimmy Hoffa intended; creating a lasting peace in the Middle East with a Palestinian state from the river Jordan to the Mediterranean, and a Pax Iraniana under the sober nuclear leadership of the mullahs in Teheran, a stable nuclear stalemate in the Korean peninsula, the returning of Taiwan to its rightful owners in mainland China –will go down in history as only the minor accomplishments of the greatest American president ever.

How foolish was I to think that he would lose the Congress in the coming election, when so many stood bravely by his bold initiatives? What insanity possessed me to imagine that the America people would punish, rather than reward him and his party for their paternal and sacrificial deeds for all of us? How could I have criticized them for only doing what was right, and just, and fair, in the face of such disgusting criticism and hatred from the evil right wingers? How could I have been so wrong? Is there any hope for me?

From this day forward, I pledge my troth to the Democrats, the saviors of our nation, the party of selflessness and compassion. No longer will I selfishly demand that I keep any of the fruit of my own labor, because I now understand that it was never mine, but only that of the people. Henceforth, I will work not for myself, or my family, but only for the greater good.

I can only ask, how did it take so long for me to see the light? What foolish ideology blinded me to righteousness, and my duty to my fellow citizens and humans on the planet? How did I live for so many years without feeling the pain of my obvious disgusting selfishness? How can I ever be forgiven?

Even if I finally, after decades, do the right thing, and pull the Donkey lever this fall, is there any hope for my redemption?

But lest I be viewed as someone completely uncritical of The One, let me provide one bit of criticism.

His space policy is a disaster. We no longer have a goal.

Under the Evil Bush, we had a plan. A plan to send a few astronauts a couple times a year, at a cost of several billion dollars per trip, to the moon. It was a noble plan, an ambitious plan, and one that would have had the nation enthralled to watch, as a few noble ciivil servants cavorted on the lunar surface, displayed on our low-energy-consumption foot-powered televisions.

But with the cancellation of Constellation, the dreams of watching government employees kicking up selenian dust, for tens of millions per kick, have been shattered. The nation will no longer have the opportunity to be inspired. Instead, we will have to content ourselves with hundreds, perhaps thousands of people in low earth orbit, doing what they want to do instead of following NASA’s flight plans. They might even go beyond earth orbit without official permission, upsetting the natural order of the heavens. I am dismayed to the highest degree by such a laissez faire approach to opening up the universe to humanity, and can’t imagine how such a visionary president could allow such a thing.

But I cavil about trivia. Such a minor policy error shouldn’t prevent him from his rightful place. A Nobel Peace Prize in anticipation of his achievements, while well deserved, is an insignificant award. No, he must be honored in a manner more befitting his accomplishments, present and future. He is not worthy of Mount Rushmore, or rather, his reputation would be sullied by an appearance next to such pedestrian predecessors as Washington, Jefferson and Lincoln, though the progressive Teddy Roosevelt might be a fitting accompaniment, even if shadowed by the great Obama. No, we need to add to the mountain, and build a new level for The One, above those previous poseurs. And we should rename the mountain, from Rushmore, to a more appropriate Rushless, to honor him for his vanquishing of that talk-show blowhard, who has so unpatriotically hoped for his failure. For the greatest man in American, no — in world history. we can do no less.

[Thursday morning update]

Sigh…none so blind as those who will not see. Half of the country doesn’t think our national savior should be reelected.

• Obama’s standing on four key personal qualities, including being a strong and decisive leader and understanding the problems Americans face in their lives, has dipped. For the first time since the 2008 campaign, he fails to win a majority of people saying he shares their values and can manage the government effectively.

• Twenty-six percent say he deserves “a great deal” of the blame for the nation’s economic problems, nearly double the number who felt that way last summer. In all, half say he deserves at least a moderate amount of blame.

The blame directed at his predecessor, former president George W. Bush, hasn’t eased, however: 42% now give Bush “a great deal” of blame, basically unchanged from 43% last July.

• By 50%-46%, those surveyed say Obama doesn’t deserve re-election.

Ingrates.

The Green Pharaoh

See, he was just trying to save the Nile delta. I’m even more amused at the leftist outrage in the comments. But then, leftists, and particularly watermelons, don’t have much of a sense of humor.

[Update a couple minutes later]

I love this comment from Bernstein:

Jon Stewart is funny because of the ways he bugs his eyes out, and otherwise makes funny faces. Can’t get that effect on a blog, I’m afraid.

It’s funny ‘cuz it’s true.

We Few, We Unhappy Few

We band of brothers:

This day is call’d the feast of Reconciliation.
He that votes aye this day, and comes home
To face the slings and arrows and pitchforks of the town-hall mob,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam’d,
And rouse him at the name of Reconciliation.
He shall have returned to DC on this day, and have the last laugh,
And a seven-figure sinecure on K Street.
In his stately paneled office with Potomac view
He will yearly on the vigil feast his lobbying-staff,
And say ‘To-morrow is Health Care Day.’
A PowerPoint graph of his Gallups he will show,
And say ‘These wounds I had on Reconciliation day.’

The Battle of Agincourt it ain’t.

Engagement

The Saints and Colts are still hoping to avoid having to play a football game:

“Playing this Super Bowl is our last resort,” said NFL commissioner Roger Goodell, who was flanked by the coaches and quarterbacks for the opposing teams. “Yes, there are some difficult issues that need to be hashed out, such as who will be the game’s MVP, the number of total passing yards for each quarterback, and which team will be named Super Bowl champion, but I think we made progress today.”

“The Colts and the Saints are unwavering in their commitment to avoid any violence and wish to resolve the Super Bowl peacefully, without a single football being thrown,” Goodell added.

I think that they should meet without preconditions.

Why Coakley Lost

Iowahawk has the scoop, from deep within the campaign:

When I move to the Massachusetts Senora Coakley is first a very good lady. She no make me do the windows, only to bring the grocery and the morning tracking polls. She is very happy with the 30% lead and she is always the phone with Senor Reid and the real eastate brokers in Washington. But one morning I am bring her the tracking poll and she is now only up 15% and she is very angry. “Rosa! Why are you to bring me this! Throw this bad poll away and bring me the grapefruit.”

Then, Dio mio, every day the poll is more bad, and she keep yelling louder. She stop asking for the grapefruit and ask for the Ben and Jerry ice cream. She say, “Rosa, why do the stupid voter people fall for the stupid Senor Brown and his stupid truck?” I say, I do no know Senora, maybe because he is the very handsome and against the health care taxes. This is make her very angry and to throw her Ben and Jerry across the kitchen.

When I am clean up the mess Senora Coakley say, “You are the Mexicana, yes Rosa? You must have the old pickup truck I can borrow for the campaign.”

I say, “no Senora, I am from Guatemala. My cousin Estaban has the pickup, but it is need the new transmission.”

Every day it is getting worse with yelling and the polls. Senora Coakley is on the phone with the Senator peoples and the White House peoples, especially after she say the bad things about the Red Sox man. “Why do I have to know all this things about the beisbol players?” she is yelling on the phone. “Nobody at the Harvard cares!”

Then she looks at me and she say, “Rosa! You are the Hispanic like the many beisbol players. Why can no you get me the endorsement from the Pedro Gomez or Lopez or what is his name? You are not being very good to help me!”

I am say, “I am sorry Senora, I know Pedro Gomez but he is not this beisbol player. Maybe you talk to Senor Steinbrenner. Do you want me to go to the Stop and Shop for more Ben and Jerry?”

Well, it has to be someone‘s fault.

A Golden Oldie

What with the overblown Harry Reid thing (Democrats are hyper race conscious? I’m shocked, shocked), I thought I’d replay a little spoof I wrote back in the Trent Lott days.

And for the record, yes, I do think that what Lott said was worse than what Reid did. Of course, I saw it as a good excuse to get rid of a dud of a majority leader. And I want Reid to stay and continue to do damage to his party, to ultimately minimize the damage that it does to the country.

Man, I Hate Holiday Travel

Iowahawk has an exclusive: a guest editorial by the skivvie bomber:

…the whole in-flight terror experience has gone completely downhill since the jet set golden years of the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s. What happened to all those pretty stewardesses and polite, well dressed infidels, screaming as the plane plummeted to the ground? Time was, a suicide mission to explode an international jumbo jet was an event full of glamor and excitement; but now it seems to be a endless series of delays, hassles, pushy jerks and third-degree testicular chemical burns. And don’t even get me started on the crappy airline food.

…So I’m like, “honey, do I look like I’m a US military veteran?”

“No.”

“Do I look like I’m some sort of right wing anti-tax teabagger?”

“No.”

“Do I look like anybody else on the DHS terrorism danger list?”

“No, but…”

“Then I suggest that unless you want a nasty anti-discrimination lawsuit on your hands, you’d best give me an aisle seat. With extended legroom.”

I don’t know how he gets these things….