Mortaljive: The Rest is Silence

There is no still point in all the Universe, and that is the rock upon which I stand

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

My Junk Mail

The following text arrived in my junk mail at work today. I liked it.
Democrats, were you listening last Thursday, when Newt Gingrich laid into debate moderator John King for raising concerns about his fidelity? You should have been. You would have seen the future. Please note that Mr. Gingrich was not angry at the liberal media for doubting his explanation for his dalliances with the young ladies, but rather, told the moderator that he had no right to raise the question at all. Ever. Period. Please note that Newt is a standard-bearer for the party of personal morality, the party that preaches that bad behavior in the bedroom will lead to America’s ruin. And yet, even with this focus, Newt somehow convinced voters that it’s perfectly fine to kick your wife to the curb and expect us all to smile and say it smells like roses.

An amazing performance, Democrats. You’d better be watching. This is the man who personifies that essential Republican virtue, the ability to turn the tables of indignation against anyone who dares to say no, sir, no sir, what you did to your family does not smell like roses. Yes, Democrats you have met your nemesis. This is the man who, as President, will look into the camera and tell us, with heavy heart, that Iranians possess weapons of mass destruction, and that America is tasked with the difficult burden of bombing them into the Stone Age. And when it turns out that Iran wasn’t as missile-bound as all that, Newt will indignantly throttle the Democrats, the journalists, and all the boogeymen who came in for such a tongue-thrashing last Thursday, to the sound of mass applause and the fawning of commentators. Yes, Democrats, we’ve all lived for three years under a President who has quietly chipped away against our economic problems, lowered our taxes, turned around the automotive industry, killed Bin Laden, and all this with the fanfare of a man getting up on a regular workday and heading for the office. But where’s the fun in that? What’s the appeal of a President who doesn’t even pretend to be God’s Anointed Messenger? BORING!

But now, the fireworks will really begin, the same fireworks we saw in 2003 under That Other Republican: Go ahead and ask Newt, and he’ll happily inform you: “We are living in the End Times.” What does that mean? It means America must wage a final struggle against Islam, usher in the closing of the Age, and thus, fulfill Biblical prophecy. Do you think Mitt Romney could sell us that? Mitt Romney, who, whenever he talks, knows that you know that he knows that you know he is lying? No, only Newt Gingrich can assume the proper somber gravity, don the mantle of George W. Bush, and convince us that we must once more, soldier up in some faraway land of Allah and start shooting.

Go ahead. Take a deep breath, summon some courage, and publish this.

Neela Bannerji
No deep breath, no courage, but I am happily publishing this message!



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