I am going to give Osama Bamalama his chance. I have, in the past, referred to him as the Manchurian Candidate, because I sincerely believe he has a hidden agenda, and most folks make the association when I use old movies as a reference point. My satellite TV provider [DISH™ AND Encore™] were quite happy to slap the Frank Sinatra/Laurence Harvey original into the rotation during the run-up to the election, but they balked at airing the Denzel Washington remake.
I got “Osama Bamalama” from a drunken remark that Ted Kennedy made when he had no idea who Barack Obama was, and asked one of his minders “who is that Osama guy?”
The rest, as they say, was rock ‘n roll. I have two “Southernisms” for you; things we say back home in our mountainous privacy: #1 is Ted Kennedy: that boy ain’t right. He killed a woman, and skated where her family received no justice, only a continuing cover-up. At the time of the Kopechne drowning, someone told me a bad joke about Teddy diving for his pants off Martha’s Vineyard.
I received a conciliatory e-mail from my liberal insider and advisor on all things Jewish, Red Liz. She admonishes me to give President Obama a chance. I am burned out on politics. The other “Southernism” is that “you dance with the one who brought you”. We, the American people, have been dealt the hand at the table.
I served the office, not the man. Out of respect for the president-elect and my past, I declare a personal moratorium on calling President Obama “Osama-anything”. To quote what I have told disaffected people in the past: “hide somewhere and watch.” That’s what I’m going to be doing. Yes, I’m partisan. The key word of “conservative” is the verb, to conserve.
I do not expect great things from President Obama. I think he will show up on national TV wearing a sweater—like Jimmy Carter—and telling us that it’s our patriotic duty to suck it up and turn those thermostats down to 55°, as well as paying higher taxes. He will announce a surrender date in Iraq, thus invalidating the lives of those who have fought and died there. He will close Gitmo [Guantanamo Bay, Cuba] as a sop to his Left Wing supporters. He will announce that the southern border is open, and all illegals will receive amnesty.
I have been making bad jokes to my Significant Other that Obama should name William Ayers—the SDS domestic terrorist—as head of the Ministry of Homeland Security. Oprah—bless her heart, she needs no last name any longer—can replace Condi Rice as Secretary of State, and “Reverend” Wright should assume the newly created cabinet post—as they promised Andy Griffith in his searing movie characterization in “A Face in the Crowd”—as Minister of Homeland Morale. (That “goddamn America” and “United States of KKK” makes him perfect for the job.)
I was accused in the comments section of “A Last Gasp” of being a racist. Some clown signed in under a phony name similar to “Beerme”, a Constant Reader whom I know. The coward pretender asked if I am a racist because of my pre-election admonition that we must take back Congress.
I’ll answer that publicly. Despite the environment I grew up with, I have no problem with and never considered the race of an individual of anyone who wants to run for president. For the last time—read my blog posts, dumbass!—I think America is overdue for a black president. I want someone who would take the air out of the room, like J.C. Watts, Michael Steele, or Condi Rice, who just wants to go play football. [And who can blame her?] I have been at odds with my Southern “tradition” of racism since the day my grandma slapped me in the Wilkes County courthouse because I took a drink of water from the “Colored” fountain. I am a bit older, and slightly wiser than a confused six-year-old. I dated a black girl in high school, had my car vandalized, and ended up suspended for a brawl the following Monday. [See previous post here: “The Nigger Lover”.] A very large black Ranger we called “Rosie” because he looked just like Roosevelt Greer, the football player, saved my life in Vietnam. I may be a proud Confederate—and I am—but that pride isn’t based on race. That dog doesn’t hunt.
Liberals have a hard time dealing with the fact that 70% of their constituency is made up of conservative “black people”—gasp from the South—Negroes! who voted down gay marriage in Californication and don’t care to take to the streets.
Okay, we made history. We elected the first black president in American history. That is a point of pride for America. I do not like the man’s politics, but I am happy to see ground broken, and barriers come down. Obama is truly “naked”; he has an immense burden to carry. If he fails, he has no one to blame for it. Congress is in thrall to Pelsosi and her gang of do-nothings. They have been licking their fangs.
If Obama takes the sharp left turn, he will forget Bill Clinton’s history and lose the Congress.
One chance. I am hiding and waiting, faithful to my vows to my liberal friends. One chance to show leadership. I reserve the right to lambaste the commander-in-chief, and to dredge out all available names if/when president Obama screws the pooch beyond recognition. I do not have reservations about calling a spade a spade, pardon the shameful pun. I reserve the right to lambaste our new president, and if he’s really the Manchurian candidate and in the tank for the left, I will not only nullify my moratorium on disrespectful nicknames, I might get a lot worse. For the winter months coming, I will hibernate on political issues. I’ll hide somewhere and watch. The man made it on stolen votes and big money; like a dog chasing a car, now that he’s caught it, what’s he going to do with it?
I resent being called a racist because my political view is not in lockstep with Obama. When the question is raised, four years from now, “are you better than…” most of the college-aged kids who raised such a ruckus during this election will be graduated, married, starting to raise children, struggling hand-to-mouth in the collapsing pseudo-socialist economy, and wondering about that “change” they voted for in ’08.
We, the American people, made history when we elected a black president this month. Whether this man stands as an icon of achievement or fades to a footnote in history as a cheese-eating surrender monkey depends upon his character. “Surrender monkey” is not a racist slur; it is an approbation for someone who will deny the sacrifice of boots-on-the-ground soldiers in favor of a politically correct appeasement of tyranny. The powers-that-were did this to my war; we left Vietnam, and 2,000,000 people died.
I am retired, old, and in the way, and not in a position to be hurt as much as the general public by our new president’s economic policies. The stock market will level out, and the world will once again realize how much they depend on America, and capitalism, as the root of their social and economic stability.
Being old and in the way, I can afford the luxury of memory; I can easily recall the World Trade Center, and other incidents preceding it. If “change” means surrender or appeasement to terrorists, all bets are off on what I just said. I will give our dually-elected president his chance to make a success or failure of the office to which he has been elected. If he succeeds, more power to him. If he fails, I hope America wakes up and wins back the Congress and Senate.
If I have any disappointment about the election, it is that we, the people, failed to counterbalance an almost inevitable White House win with a conservatively-controlled congress. Pelosi, Reid, and their gangs of do-nothings have been licking their fangs, ready to pounce like jackals when the coast is clear, as it is now.
Obama has two years, approximately, before the off-year elections. 365 x 2=730 days. I’ll give him those 730 days. I have no great hopes, but like possums up a tree, we’ll see what shakes out.
Like any honest card game, we play the hand that’s dealt us. The nation chose Obama, so we’ll deal with him. It may not be the best for the country and the people, but we can survive pseudo-socialism better now than later.
Yesterday was Veteran’s Day. I hope y’all sought out a veteran—family or friend—hugged him/her, and said “welcome home, and thank you”. Political correctness aside, to do so is to make a grown man cry. We have too many veterans from too many wars. The first time anyone said “Thanks, and welcome home”, I broke down and cried like a fool in front of hundreds of people.
And… thank you for reading this, my humble opinions.