Avery Brown, We Never Knew You

Television character Murphy Brown famously shunned family and decided to raise baby Avery without the benefit of marriage or even the boy’s father.  Hollywood writers gleefully used the TV show’s script to mock vice president Dan Quayle’s admiration for marriage and family and went on to laud “diversity” of families.

Writers today wouldn’t dare tell audiences the story of grown Avery, just turned twenty-three, who still lives with Mommy and, lacking a male role model, has turned to video games and action-movies to fabricate his own essence of manhood.  Murphy, secretly appalled by her son’s brooding nature and penchant for violence, has for years resorted to appeasing the confused boy by lavishing him with gifts including (hoping to infuse masculinity into his misguided life) pistols and a gun range membership.

During the two-hour season finale, Brown and her fellow journalists argue how best to report on the middle school massacre Avery perpetrated in his venture to garner the type of fame lauded on stars of bloody Hollywood blockbusters.  In the end, though Murphy herself has an epiphany about the huge fallacy of being a single mom, her fictional news show remains a soldier of the progressive movement.  Ever a liberal trooper, Murphy goes on air with a heavy heart for her dead son and the fourteen children he murdered, then echoes misguided calls for more gun control and higher taxes to bolster America’s decrepit mental health system.

Birds of a Feather

New York representative Carolyn Maloney defends Cecile Richardson as “making a good salary.”

Only in the upside-down progressive world of abortion and tax-dollar largesse is five hundred thousand downplayed as a “good salary” while the same amount in industry is derided as excessive, greedy, and unjust.

Cecile Richardson isn’t a member of industry.  Far from it: she reaps compensation for heading Planned Parenthood, a tax-guzzling leviathan that, in no way productive, exists solely to snatch away the lives of babies in the womb.

A “distinguished organization” gushed Maloney of Planned Parenthood.  Sure.  And Obama darling Susan Rice proclaimed traitor Bowe Bergdahl served in the army with “honor and distinction.”  The progressive war on truth wages on.

Unfit

Members of the ruling class wring hands while haughty television “journalists” wag melancholy expressions: in unison they bemoan the awkward and ineffective manner in which Hillary responds to her deepening e-mail scandal.

From high atop pedestals, sadly, that lofty lot fails to acknowledge that Clinton is not embroiled in scandal at all: she perpetrated a damaging breach of national security, one that endangers lives of American men and women while threatening the nation’s future.

Hillary’s failing is serious, not merely the sort of scandal so routine among Washington’s elite, not some tawdry embarrassment that elicits a disingenuous apology from some hollow politician.  Inured by serial corruption inside the beltway, citizens would shrug if this matter was simply sordid, like sex in a bathroom stall or dollars stacked in a freezer, lavish office furnishing or public-paid junkets to paradise.  But cross-country outrage is growing as Hillary’s lax stewardship of national secrets is revealed to be egregious.

Nor does America’s nobility and its fawning media seem to grasp the sentiment of the productive class.  Mainstream Americans don’t care to elect yet another politician who is little more than head of a machine primed to react to a parade of scandals.  Far from it, the country is dire to put in office a person possessing the morals to avoid scandal altogether.

Hillary repeatedly proves she doesn’t fit that bill.

Nonsense Climbs New Peak

A central front in Progressives’ war on liberty is their assault on language.  “Words are offensive” is their disingenuous mantra, a hollow excuse to mock, insult, and denigrate Americans strong enough to be mavericks from liberal bellowing and imposed, shallow values.

Anchor baby is nowadays a term scorned with vain desire to ignore the immorality of illegal immigration and focus on fictional hate; wife and husband are disappearing from newspapers in favor of the neuter spouse.  After all, bona fide marriage might flourish if society continues to recognize the truth that marriage is a blessed union of one man to one woman.

The latest salvo aimed at words comes from President Obama, a disaffected boy named Barry who grew into an inept and unproductive man renamed Barack.  Mount McKinley, gloats the White House, will henceforth be dubbed Denali, never mind that North America’s highest peak has honored our 25^th president for 98 years.

McKinley, assassinated by an anarchist, was unfortunately a white Republican, therefore no longer worthy of his place in history.  Out with the old language and in with the new: Denali, showing reverence for a religious creation story believed by a small tribe of Alaskan Indians, now replaces President William McKinley’s memory.

Our nation’s tallest mountain named to honor the religious conviction of a tiny tribe?  In a country when neo-outrage boils over when even a diminutive Christmas tree turns up in a public square?

The absurdity of the fatuous left has reached a new peak.

Identity Crisis

More than 15,000 government-based e-mail addresses have been exposed as part of the sordid Ashley-Madison hacking affair.  One can bet Hillary Clinton’s isn’t among them—never has she deigned lower herself to the communications protocol of a common bureaucrat.  No—she concocted a burdensome system allowing her to hide behind a non-government e-mail name.  Experience had caught up to her: best have ability to erase evidence when undertaking illicit or inept action.

That’s a lesson taken to heart throughout Obama’s pernicious administration.  Deceptive EPA administrator Lisa Jackson created a false e-mail name in hopes of covering her agency’s damaging agenda, while lately it’s come to light IRS thug Lois Lerner relied on a surrogate e-mail account to conceal government bullying of the Tea Party.

Funny that people use government e-mail addresses when cheating on their wives, but prefer private e-mail identities when being unfaithful to the American people.

Hillary’s Bluff

On a bluff overlooking Arkansas’ White River sits the newly-constructed Hillary Rodham Presidential Library.  A masterpiece of modern architecture, the edifice pays tribute to the life and public service of Ms. Rodham, America’s first female president.

“This gallery,” explained the docent, “recognizes Hillary’s success as a painter.  Bet many of you didn’t realize she was a talented artist, huh?”

With puzzlement the tour group gaped at empty walls.  “But there’s nothing here,” ventured one tourist from Schenectady.

Through a waxen grin the guide explained: “Ms. Rodham is a very private citizen.  While proud of her accomplishments, she chooses not to flaunt them.  This way–”

The group scuttled through a door until confronted by the number “2” dominating one high wall of another empty room.  “Two times the people of New York elected Hillary to the Senate,” droned the docent.  “That’s quite a record.  This way–”

Tiny blue and white airplanes waited on a table centered in the next void.  “Hillary travelled more air miles than any other Secretary of State.  Another enviable achievement.  These are exact replicas of the sort of plane Hillary rode to success.  Only thirty dollars lets you celebrate her accomplishment by taking one of these home.”  Visiting from Albuquerque, a busload of braless feminists rushed the table en masse.  The rest of the group escaped the pandemonium by slipping into the Presidential Gallery.

Footfalls again echoed off blank walls in an empty space.  A leering portrait of Hillary was the sole decoration.  “This display reminds us to each be proud we elected a woman to four years in the White House.”

“But there’s nothing here,” blurted an exasperated college student from Oshkosh.  “Why can’t we see a record of what she did?”

“Young woman,” scolded the docent.  “The record of Hillary’s unparalleled service may be studied at any time.”

The group murmured its pleasure.

“But,” admitted the docent, “Ms. Rodham does have a simple rule: Her record may only be seen by people who don’t want to see her record.  Have a nice day.”

The dismayed group staggered into the Arkansas sun, hoodwinked again by Hillary.

Flights of Fancy

When the going gets tough, the Obamas get going … to Hollywood, that is.  And with the Obama presidency gaining infamy for failure through each scandal it spawns, times have grown downright rugged for Barack and First Lady Michelle.  Hence the duo again retreated to the land of stars, late last week eschewing the fourth estate in favor of unrequited love lavished on them by the frivolous realm of comedy and talk television.

Their TV appearances were naturally absurd and offensive, Michelle acting hip with a dance encouraging children to play while Barack inanely lectured that Ferguson, Missouri police are oppressive.  A much larger message Americans should take away, however, is that the Obamas are gleeful to have another twenty-two months to pillage the overdrawn treasury and derogate common citizens: on a single day, flying from the White House to Los Angeles and back, the Obamas treated themselves to separate airplanes.

The cost of that antic, of course, is tremendous to everyone but Washington looters to whom a million taxpayer dollars is loose change.  But what about the “damaging gases” needlessly spewed by this “green” couple?  Two speeding jetliners, while they exhort common Americans to cram four-to-a-Prius for glacial commutes to work?

Though adept at nothing useful, Obama functionaries are practiced at diverting accountability from their president.  Barack and Michelle, they lament, had such disparate schedules that travelling together posed inconvenience.  The man who wheedled his way into the Oval Office through flowery talk of change is unwilling to adjust his schedule?  The First Lady’s itinerary remains sacrosanct, yet our Constitution is a petty “living document” that must evolve to meet progressive whims?

They have been astute learners, this couple quickly ascended from anonymity to high office: after a mere six years at the beltway’s hub they empty coffers and brashly lie without the least evidence of remorse.  Now imagine the scope of fraud if a veteran Washington couple, one known to have a penchant for corruption, graft, and waste, is installed in the White House.  How harshly do Hillary and Bill intend to abuse power if they successfully dupe the electorate?  Perhaps Chelsea’s Mona Lisa smile gives us a clue: has she been promised her own airplane, too?

The Good Times Roll

A quiet night in Chappaqa gives Bill a chance to peruse adult magazines.

“William,” Hillary suddenly says, intruding on his solitude.  “I need your help.”

“What this time, Hill?  I hope it’s fund-raising.”

“I wish,” laments the Madame Secretary.  “But do you remember that annoying place called Congress?  They’re after my email.”

“Again?  The cattle futures thing?”

“No, I got away with that.  This is about that stint I did at Foggy Bottom.”

“Well just hide it all in your closet,” recommends the former president.

“No more room.  Besides, this is electronic, on that server thing in the dining room.”

“That’s what that box is?  A server?  And I thought it was a video game.”

“In a way it is,” cackles Hill, “because bluffing America is always fun!  Here–this laptop shows my emails.  We should eliminate ones that are private.  That’ll make it easy on Congress.”

Bill scrolls through the list.  “Boy, you’ve got a heap about something called Benghazi.  What’s that?”

“Some beach resort,” explains Hill. “So, wouldn’t it be about vacation?  Private.”

“Then delete,” reasons Forty-Two.  “And who’s Vlad Putin?”

“Designed Chelsea’s wedding dress, didn’t he?  More private stuff … go ahead and delete.”

“By golly, Hill, you’re right: this is loads of fun.”

“Just like old times,” reminisces the former First Lady.

“And if we’re lucky, a preview of what’s ahead.”

 

 

Not Quite Cloned

Hillary Clinton would love nothing more than becoming Barack Obama’s clone.  How easy he had it on his way to the Oval Office, casting a few “present” votes, surviving a short and anonymous Washington stint as senator, scribbling a mediocre but unstudied autobiography.  No one even knew there was such a career as “community organizer” until he oozed onto the national scene.

He proved himself the perfect Progressive, a candidate with an ephemeral background, a man unburdened by any sort of work record, a slick talker with a quick excuse for everything and an innate ability to read flowery and vague speeches from a teleprompter.

Hillary, on the other hand, struggles under the weight of her sordid past: Whitewater and cattle futures, baking cookies in the kitchen and Vince Foster’s corpse, billing records beamed into her closet and carpetbagging all the way to a New York senate seat.  Sure, aside from voting to wage war on Iraq, she managed to remain successfully silent as senator before getting hoodwinked into her post as head of State where she orchestrated the laughable ” Russian reset” and gave us the death and lies of Benghazi; her Arab Spring turned frigid; a daft spokeswoman was unable to cite even a single Hillary success.

Now it turns out that while at Foggy Bottom Hillary sought to be so invisible that she eschewed government e-mail in favor of a private account devoid of any sort of accountability.  Barack must have given her high marks for that devious bit of ingenuity.  But however hard she’s tried, Hillary can’t ever be the man-who-never-was Obama managed, a wheedling huckster from nowhere with a knack for stealing votes from the naïve.

No, Hillary comes to America with a past.  That’s as certain as the stain on Monica’s dress.

 

Up In Smoke

Will someone teach Republicans to pick smart fights?  Now they’re badgering Washington DC about its imminent marijuana legalization, and the outcome of their bullying is bound to leave the GOP bloodied and with diminished esteem.  Obama, they should recall, was twice elected despite incompetence, inexperience, and indecision: voters flocked to him because he carries an aura many interpret as cool.  Republicans, on the other hand, serially serve up reason for Hollywood and big media to portray conservatives as stodgy and unstylish.  Here they go again.

Not that Republicans should mimic Democrats and embrace dope in hopes of garnering votes; the party should adopt ambivalence about DC’s approaching pot woes and focus on grander vistas.  The 2016 elections, for one.  The marijuana Titanic, after all, has already steamed from the pier and won’t be stopped by some Republican tossing a lasso from a rowboat.  The way to stop the lumbering ship is to clamber aboard and shove its doddering captain and progressive crew out of the way, then slow the vessel and steer clear of the iceberg.  Republicans need continued success at the polls to accomplish that.

Our nation’s recent dalliance with Mary Jane, Republicans must recognize, is merely a dangerous symptom of a more profound national ill: a generation of Americans have been taught in public schools and universities that liberty is realized through self-gratification and dependence on government.  For six years Obama’s harmful progressive agenda has reinforced that absurd notion.

Free people, in reality, are independent of government and imbued with self-responsibility.  Americans are hungry for moral leadership that will rejuvenate that spirit of liberty to all corners of our nation, and Hillary Clinton and other progressives have time after time proven that they are incapable of assuming the mantle of such a leader.  The responsibility to return the country to greatness therefore falls on the shoulders of the GOP who, by stirring up this marijuana imbroglio, seem intent on once again watching their chances for moving into the White House go up in smoke.