[Originally written on October 28, 2007, we thought this was one of Blanca's Greatest Hits. Like Rod Serling, DBKP reprints it for your consideration...]
Mr. Sullivan, I watched Real Time with Bill Maher this Friday. Actually I time-shifted and watched it on Saturday, but that is the genius of the Tivo, without which pundits like myself would be lost. The vapid flow of information, which endlessly streams from the Mainstream Media, is far too much my mind to process timely.
To be quite honest, your breed confuses me.
You try to enter our tent, and then become confused when we want you to enter in the rear--rather apropos for someone of your predilections, don't you think?
This is a Christian party. We occasionally let in the wayward Jew. And once in a while, a couple of black people sneak in.
But for the most part, this party is Christian, white, and straight. We have embraced this for years. If we didn't, don't you think we would have passed some sort of legislation when we owned Congress to help the "others?"
Oh, of course when a minority comes into the party, and passes the prerequisite challenge of having wealth and being willing to abandon others like him, we let him rise high in the party.
We have even permitted a couple of your type to rise, as long as they had the decency to keep their private affairs secret, live in a closet, and clap and cheer when the President introduces legislation designed to make them second-class citizens.
It's the only polite thing to do.
As I watched you complain about our beloved President, I grew more and more angry as the hour progressed. I couldn't understand why anyone would willingly enter an organization, which very vociferously has made it quite clear over the years that you are not welcome.
It would be like a Negro attempting to enter his local chapter of the KKK, and then complain about the lynching policy. It just doesn't make any sense, don't you think?
You seem like an intelligent man. You're familiar with the story of Faust, aren't you Mr. Sullivan? Not the all-male pornographic version, which I mistakenly rented from my local video rental. [Note to self: must change video rental stores.]
No, the original, written by the German Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. A medieval scholar makes a bargain with the Devil in order to gain the knowledge of the world, in essence to gain power.
Knowledge is power. Or, for folks like you: knowledge=power.
Faust is followed home by a poodle, an adorable dog, with curly hair and a penchant for dressing like a sissy, something with which you may be familiar Mr. Sullivan. At home in Faust's study, the poodle transforms into Mephistopheles.
It is at this point that perhaps one of the most quotable lines of Goethe is uttered: Das ist des Pudels kern. For those of you who are Germanically-challenged: That is the poodle's heart.
Why do I wax on poetic, and probably psycholitic in your eye?
You stated on Bill Maher's show that you voted for our beloved Commander Guy in 2000, but you became disenchanted in later years. Perhaps you lacked that simple talent which our Decider has mastered so skillfully, the art of looking a man in the eye and seeing into his soul.
He has done it often with Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin, or Pootie-Poot, as our Commander Guy likes to call him--a name so fitting for a former KGB officer. Had Faust simply looked into the poodle's eyes, he would have seen the heart, which was the Devil's.
Do I say that our beloved President is the Devil?
Hardly.
But if you, as a man of letters, and a man of conscious, as you so artfully claim, could not have seen into the heart of the poodle which followed the Republican Party home in 2000, then you have no one to blame but yourself.
And like the poodle, which followed the Party home in 2000, the Party followed the Religious Right home one fall in 1994, looking for a home after a brilliant ass kicking by one William Jefferson Clinton.
Clinton mastered the art of speaking to the public, to both sides, although not to the fringes. He became the middle-of-the-road President, who occasionally strayed to one side or the other of the line, but who could be counted upon to eventually return home to the medium.
And this double-yellow-line philosophy is what scared the living shit out of us on the extreme right. We knew we could not compete with Clinton on substance alone.
We knew that a populist cannot be destroyed. We unfortunately learned that lesson rather late with the failed attempt at Impeachment. And so when the Religious Right found that lost poodle one day and took it in and fed it, our party wagged the tail, to appease its new master.
Now don't get me wrong, President Clinton was evil, pure evil.
I can't remember why, but Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity tell me this on a regular basis, so I must believe it.
Like all good Republicans, abstract and critical thinking are not my forte. I am much better suited to follow a strong leader, someone who doesn't care what the polls or the people think; one who doesn't care what the international community thinks; one who doesn't care what the facts state: facts have such a well-known liberal bias.
That man is our beloved Commander Guy, one Mr. George W. Bush.
So Mr. Sullivan, you see that you really have no stance, wide or otherwise, in this argument. You knew what you were getting into.
I love my President. He has done the hard work, making progress, moving forward, doing a heckuva job. If you don't like what the party has become (notice I didn't use the word "evolved") then get the hell out.
We really don't want you, anyway.
by Blanca DeBree
[images: blancasphere; theavclub]
Source: If You Can't Stand the Heat
* Phony * Such a Cunning Linguist * SCHIPS (You Can't Eat Just One) |
Death by 1000 Papercuts Front Page.
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