Of Zombies and Ironies
Richard Mitchell declared, “The castigation of fools is an ancient and honorable task of writers.” It is a sacred duty at which I gladly toil. But we are moving beyond that point. How I long for mere fools! A couple million of them would make for an improvement. The straggler fool might be found at least to resist his own destruction. Fools are not zombies marching off a cliff.
But, fools are so yesterday. We blinked and they were gone.
We looked up to see in their place zombies goose stepping and only but a few brave souls to wade against the stiff horde amidst their monotone cries of hope and change. They celebrated in unison when President Obama promised a fundamental transformation of America. Many of us off to the side knew with those words he was hell bent on the very destruction of our republic. But if we are honest, we will admit we were unprepared for the degree of success he would enjoy. That success is measured in largely undetected ironies.
Where to begin?
The millenia-standing institution of marriage is shattered to satisfy the whimsical demands of those who put their body parts in strange and unnatural places. After gaining the “crown jewel” of the so-called gay agenda, most of them dismissively cast it aside. There’s one.
AR-15s for Mexican drug lords. Nukes for Iranian sponsors of terrorism as they chant, “Death to America!” and call our closest allies “apes and pigs,” and openly relish the prospects of their final extermination, and we will reward you with advanced F-16 fighter jets. But John Smith in Jonesboro? He should be able to get by with a Louisville Slugger. It takes a zombie to miss it.
In the past year, the Department of Homeland (in)Security made our homeland more secure by giving residency to 1,500 Muslim terrorists and known terrorist sympathizers. Where is a fool when we need one?
The president boasts that Islam richly contributed to the founding of our nation- a naked lie. Meanwhile, this week in Oklahoma, monuments which recognize the true biblical foundation of our nation’s laws are torn down in the middle of the night. Ironic, wouldn’t you say?
The 9th Circuit rules that public schools can prohibit students from displaying the U.S. flag. (And, yes, they have been repeatedly informed that the students and the schools are actually in the United States.) Constitutional freedoms can’t be permitted to offend those nostalgic for old Mexico. Only here! Imagine the Chinese taking up the irony of prohibiting the display of their own flag on their own soil so as not to offend the Japanese. How do you say “hope” and “change” in Mandarin?
The Bill of Rights is routinely mocked by those who crossed their fingers and swore to uphold the entire Constitution. In the deepest of ironies, if you hate the Constitution and wish it to be replaced by Sharia law, lucky you, the First Amendment applies to you. If you love the Constitution, you are a dangerous person and your speech needs to be moderated (or else!).
Those who had a dream, took a risk with their capital, beat the rising sun for years on end to build a business, and poured their very selves into its success are ordered by a rogue judge to turn over all their profits to a pair of sexual deviants who had their precious feelings hurt because not everyone in the world would smile approvingly on their freakish bedroom stunts and enter into their fairy tale. Those who did nothing except play make believe get to sink their thieving hands into others’ pockets and extract $135,000 for themselves and their lawyers at the expense of those who lived in the real world and busted their tails to earn it.
If Congress sends a budget to the President and the President sends it through the shredder then– you guessed it–those bad Republicans in Congress shut down the government. Kind of like when you were a child and your mom put a plate of food in front of you at dinner time. You didn’t see any Tootsie Rolls so you shoved the plate onto the floor and defiantly crossed your arms. And every news station in town ran the story: “Mother Starves Child.”
A woman has a “right to privacy” when it comes to killing her living, growing son or daughter. But she has no such right when it comes to the NSA dropping in on her personal phone calls and e-mails. Those she hires to butcher the baby and sell his/her body parts have defenders who give public lectures on morality.
The ironies. The endless ironies. Where to stop?
You might say that a single inexplicable irony is the stuff of politics. Explicability emerges, however, from a countless collection of inexplicabilities.
But Zombies take little notice or care of ironies and coups d’état. Oh, to trade them for fools.
So what do morally outraged, patriotic men and women do in the midst of this mayhem and marching of zombies? At the very least, I suggest we find our voices. Stop flowing with the mob. Turn and face them. To the extent it is possible, shake to wake the zombies. When the wide-eyed coworker blurts, “Did you hear Ben Affleck is dating his nanny?” slap him across the chops, grab him by the collar, bobble his brains and alert him to the ever-growing national debt and to ISIS-affiated mujahideen among the illegal immigrants stampeding across our southern border. We must get loud. We must get serious. All of us. Now!
And if you are too cowardly or too busy for that, don’t say you weren’t warned when you go tumbling off the cliff with the zombie horde.
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