Sunday, January 30

WHAT DO DEMOCRATS LIKE, ANYWAY?

The thought occurs that Democrats -- the professional "pols" and their obsequious handlers and panderers -- are an unhappy lot. They bray and thump their chests and wring their hands, and just "Kerry" on so. It seems anymore that not a thing pleases them. I imagine Barbra Streisand is at her keyboard tonight venting and baring teeth. Dean's probably having a histrionic fit somewhere testing his falsetto. Boxer's no doubt punching the heavy bag with tears streaming down her cheeks, raging at dull-witted Ohioans. Heinz-Kerry is castigating the First Lady for her naivete and schoolgirl devotion.

You'd think the big, brave, triumphant turnout in Iraq's election yesterday would have inspired these people to say something nice, something inspirational, something substantive. But jackasses they are, and jackasses they shall remain. There's not even been a show of support from the Democratic Party's robust, radical, self-absorbed feminist wing. They celebrate abortion, so maybe it's no wonder that 40 or 50 more Iraqi deaths matter not a lick to them. Death and mayhem are as inconsequential to them, as Condoleezza's ascent from obscurity, or Monica's fall from grace. Odd that they cannot applaud the liberation of Iraqi and Afghanistan women who ventured out and into the open, under risk to life and limb, to exercise their right of Choice in historic elections. Tell me, why is it that shedding a bra is more important to them than an Arab woman shedding a veil?

John Kerry went on television this morning to importune Americans not to over-hype the first democratically-held election in over 50 years in Iraq. Dozens lost their lives in the process of exercising their right to vote yesterday, and only because they chose freedom over tyranny, and found courage deep within despite threatening taunts from thugs. And so Iraqi families grieve tonight. Tears flow in shattered Iraqi homes. It shouldn't be so, but it is so, for that is the face of terrorism -- its aftermath. Terrorism hides behind hoods and slinks in the shadows to slay and wreak havoc. Cowards slayed Iraqis yesterday; now Democrats slay the dignity that the dead well deserve.

Teresa's life-of-luxury husband had not a positive thing to say to them. Appalling, isn't it? Indeed, neither Senator Kerry nor Senator Kennedy can find anything good to say anymore to anyone. Kennedy just drones on in his raw, raspy, whiskey-scarred voice about wanting the troops home, mirroring how he hailed the fall of Saigon and America's ignominious withdrawal from South Vietnam years ago. He's bigtime into retreat and appeasement, and fashions that building grand, public coffers-draining tunnels under Boston is his patriotic calling. And Kerry, of course, is not new to railing about war, while charging America and Americans alike with gross misdeeds. He decrys missle systems with the same passion that he shops for fashionable wet suits.

Kennedy-Kerry; Feinstein-Boxer; Clinton-Clinton; Jackson-Sharpton. What political tag teams for the ages. And poor ol' statesmanlike Joe Lieberman gets relegated to the dung heap. In the Democratic Party, you see, it doesn't pay to be an American first. Just ask Zell Miller. What pays is having a razor-sharp tongue, a rogue's blasphemy, and a taste for the deceit and grotesque cunning of a Michael Moore. Even Nobel Peace Prize winner Jimmy Carter saddled up to Moore at the DNC's convention, basking in the notoriety of the propagandist's fame.

And now along comes their chief financier, George Soros. Seems he can't say anything nice either. Like the dysfunctional family that the Democrats have become, they not only find cause to slash and burn much that is good in this country and much that is right about what this country does and intends to do, but they turn ravenously on one another, like mad dogs starved, salivating, and seeking fresh carion to devour. No real surprise in this egregious behavior, however. Democrats are as parsimonious with praise as they are proligate with pretense. It takes awfully special people for the Democrats to draw ranks around them and laud. It takes a scatalogical, foul-mouthed Whoopie Goldberg monologue to get their adrenaline flowing and their hands pumping with applause.

Bush gets pilloried. Cheney gets nailed. Rumsfeld gets smacked. Rice gets berated. Clarence Thomas gets called every name in the book. Child psychologist James Dobson nearly drowns under a tidal wave of mockery. Even center-right bloggers are characterized as extremists, partisan hacks and rottweilers in sheep's clothing. Their vitiol truly knows no bounds. No, adulation is held in plentiful reserves by Democrats only to be sanctimoniously parceled out to punks who rock, celebrities who pander, do-nothing Senators who spent Christmas in Cambodia, and presidents who have Oval Office assignations with White House interns.

And they wonder why 60 million American voters said, NO!, last November.