Pardon my French, my ass. You are either the shittiest flock of chickenshits or the carpetbaggingest assembly of charlatans EVER.
The power that you have bestowed upon Michael Chertoff is unconscionable and unacceptable...a complete abrogation of duty and an engraved invitation to abuse. You are obliged to correct yourselves as promptly as you were able to rally to hopefully...we pray, we pray...spare the life of ONE human vegetable.
The Columbian trade deal? Just say Wait. Think running out the clock...you know, STRATEGERY.
I recently spent five weeks with Southern Money, another five last year, the head of which household and support staff is an old-school-military-school Southern gentleman who is gracious and relaxed, in a my-way-or-the-highway kinda way, whilst driving his minions bonkers with incessant interrogations and orders. One day he returned from business in a foul FOUL mood...in all my time under their roof, including through a family ordeal, I had never before witnessed him in A Mood despite fair warning that he was capable of conjuring a doozie.
It would be just he and I for dinner, oh yay. Faced with the prospect of dining opposite a dark cloud, it would occur to a person of even average intelligence to simply beg off of dinner...after weeks of Southern fried this and Southern fried that, no one is going to starve by skipping a meal. But see above regarding Southern graciousness...it wouldn’t even be worth the argument. Too, oddly, cheap as rich people unfailingly are, they are never pleased to have their largesse declined. Go figure.
“You drive,” he commanded.
Since you put it so nicely...
Having a lifetime’s experience with mercurial, imperious, cold-blooded, hot-tempered Rich White Men, I know the drill. Lift the lid, lance the boil, put salve on the burn or, conversely, turn up the heat. If exiting stage left isn’t an option, join the condemnation or be condemned.
“Wow. I’ve never seen you like this before. Que paso?”
It was brave of me to ask, considering it invited recitation of the long list of smart alecs who continually try but fail to take advantage of him and the not-smart alecs who DO take continual advantage of him through their sheer stupidity.
“Maybe they’re not as stupid as you think.”
We’d been ‘round this mulberry bush before. But there is sometimes suddenly a day, a moment, when someone has “had it up to here” with one thing, and does another thing about it.
It was such a day with him.
“Man, I’m tellin’ ya...I kicked ass and took names today,” he said with a satisfaction that may have been attributable to reflecting upon his kick-ass day or it may have been attributable to downing the pre-dinner double scotch on shaved ice that he was drinking, in the car, en route to the restaurant. That is illegal in all 50 states, is it not?
What care I? This man...pure, deep South for the whole of his life...is COMPLETELY connected, with an old-school-military-school Southern son in the Georgia Police Department and another in the Georgia Bar, for good measure. It’s the same everywhere...I don’t have to tell you...it’s who ya know and how much money ya got.
You know what this well-connected, well-mannered, well-educated, well-moneyed Southern Landed Gentry says about All Y’all in Washington? “They’re all a buncha crooks,” is a direct quote.
He and “his” will vote for John McCain as the lesser of evils, but y’know what? He is OPEN to a bid by an independent candidate, a matter on which I had approached him last year. For a minute there, it looked like Sam Nunn might get something off the ground, didn’t it?
This man agrees that prostitution should be legal, that marijuana should be legal, and that abortion should be removed from public policy. This man agrees that half as many of you, paid twice as much, could do ten times the work twenty times more effeicently...so long as none of you were among the half. He would, as you might imagine, make an exception for his good friend and arch-conservative Senator Westmoreland.
More importantly, this man will vouche for me. He and his wife, both, and a slew of other red-necked, right-winged, pure, deep Southerners will testify that I am not seditious. LOL and screw you.
This man still gives money to the Republican party, but not his wife. I don’t mean that he doesn’t give his wife money. I mean that...like so many other rich people, they keep separate money...his wife no longer makes her own contributions to the Republican party.
She’s in her 70’s now, and had given money to the Republican party since they married, 50 years ago. But she stopped abruptly, vowing never to resume, when Republicans spearheaded the leasing of our ports to the United Arab Emirates. We need only briefly ponder the Confederacy to know that, when Southerners say something, they mean it.
Lotsa calls of the please-donate, Republicanism-forever, crush-terrorists-and-liberals variety come to their home. She is flawlessly polite when she declines to contribute to Republican coffers, each time telling the caller that...post-port proposal, which she terms treasonous...she will not EVER give money to the Republican party again, and that the caller may wish to remove her name from the list in order to save time and spare rejection. That’s how polite Southerners are...they wouldn’t say, as I would, “Tell you what, give me YOUR phone number and I’LL call YOU when it’s convenient for ME...I prefer after midnight to dinner-time.”
For real, if we were all kids instead of Big Kids and you, as little shits, were pulling the shit that you, as Big Kids, are pulling? Entire classes of hard-working, fun-loving, rule-regarding kids would be warning, “If you don’t cut it out, we’re telling.” Subsequently, they would chant in that irritating sing-song way, “You’re gon-na ge-et it.”
I’m telling, and you are.
For one thing, I’m telling my Governor...that’s Terminator, to you...and the United Nations that, as an American dissident, I require special protection.
“You will have to kill me to shut me up” and “give me liberty or give me death” seem theatrical, perhaps farcical. At the same time...given America’s increasingly and disturbingly and increasingly disturbingly heavy-handedness...they seem reckless, perhaps life-threatening. True, however...they both seem True. Let me hasten to add, particularly since the American people are so slow to anger and so quick to forget, that I will be happy...in the great American me-first tradition...to go into exile pending guarantee of safe passage.
But I have officially had it up to here. I am kicking ass and taking names, or dying trying.
A number of you would do your families and your country a service by announcing that you will not seek re-election. Path of least resistance, you know it well.
Lords & Ladies