Update: A Shameless Obama Jokes About the Taste of Pitbull

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Two days ago, I commented here, in regard to Barack Obama’s experience eating dog meat as a child, that this illustrates perfectly this president’s lack of understanding of America and her people.

Well, last night at the White House Correspondents Dinner in D.C., a slobbering display where mainstream media lapdogs and Hollywood hacks assemble to bow en masse to their dear leader, Obama decided to fortify my take on the true significance of his culinary adventures in canine by peppering his stand-up comedy act with a joke about his familiarity with the taste of pitbull.

The fact that Obama chose to boast about this event in the first place was bad enough, but now to joke about it….he just does not get it.  Never has, never will.  And his audience of simpering minions, many of them Hollywood types who beg the masses for donations to animal-welfare organizations they supposedly support, they did the man’s bidding, laughing on cue, clapping on cue, anything to rescue their dear leader from the jaws of embarrassment.  Those minions have worked mightily for years to cover for him —  no matter the troubling nugget leaked from his mysterious past, no matter the gaffe uttered into a hot microphone  —  and they obeyed once more last night in lockstep obedience.  As for me?  I’m not laughing.  Never have.  Never will.

We Americans Are What We Eat — And What We Don’t

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I tried very hard to avoid this subject.  But after a recent conversation with a fellow dog-person friend of mine, and after hearing mention of Barack Obama’s book royalties, I can’t let it go.

You remember: A week ago, certain media outlets decided to inform those of us who have not devoured Barack Obama’s many autobiographies, that he, the current president of the United States, apparently dined on dog meat during his more formative years, an act he boasted about as part of his ongoing compulsion to write and speak about himself.  The story was met with the predictable outrage from both the opponents of Obama and the proponents of dogs, followed by the equally predictable insistance from Obama’s personal mainstream media team that this is “no big deal.”  It happened when Obama was a child, the media team squealed, when he resided in countries where dog is an acceptable menu item and at the behest of his stepfather or someone…you know, an adult authority figure.  So see, no big deal.

Comedians and comedy writers have embraced the story with joyful gratitude, but this isn’t really about the president’s taking a bite of man’s best friend.  Beyond the humor, beyond the outrage, beyond what is acceptable in other countries, other cultures, this is simply another example of Obama’s fatal disconnect with America and her people, just more evidence that this man does not understand this country —  never has, never could.  All I have to do is look to my kids and, frankly, to every other American kid I have ever known.  If any of these kids had ever been offered a bite of dog, even at the tender age of 4 (and certainly any age beyond that), even if offered by an authority figure, a role model, I can say without hesitation that you would have heard their resounding and horrified “No!” from sea to shining sea.

So go ahead and make all the excuses you want for your president, mainstream media team.  They fall on the deaf ears of those of us who do know America, those who are America.  Just ask the kids of America.  They’ll tell you.  Too bad the man currently occupying the White House will never know what they know.

 

Be a Pitbull, Mitt, and Please Get Marco Rubio to Join You

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From the get-go presidential hopeful Mitt Romney has not been my favorite choice as candidate.  Romneycare is a problem, as is moderate Mitt’s refusal to denounce it as a mistake.  Also bothersome is the fear that he might model his campaign after the campaign of John McCain in 2008: Mr. Nice-Guy-Middle-of-the-Road, Mr. Cross-the-Aisle, Mr. Fire-Any-Campaign-Aide-Who-Speaks-Negatively-About-Obama-Or-Brings-Up-His-Past.  And we all know how that turned out.

But all bothers and fears aside, it looks like Mitt will be the republican candidate this fall, and though I have not celebrated personally his rise, I have to admit that over the past few weeks, he has sent some messages indicating that perhaps he does not plan to be the second coming of McCain.  First, he has actually made statements that would have gotten him instantly fired from John McCain’s 2008 campaign team — warnings about gun rights, for instance, along with comments about Obama’s secret agenda and statements that channel Ronald Reagan.  As one near and dear to me pointed out, Mitt Romney wants this desperately, so here’s hoping he’ll do what needs to be done to engage in what the brilliant Charles Krauthammer has warned is sure to be one of the dirtiest races in history.

What will really seal the deal for conservatives struggling to unite behind someone we have viewed in the past as a flip-floppy moderate will be Mr. Romney’s choice of running mate.  I thus join other conservatives in sending out our heartfelt pleas to Florida senator Marco Rubio to consider joining Mitt on the republican ticket.  Senator Rubio has told us he wants to wait to seek his place on the national stage, but our nation cannot wait.  If this current president is granted four more years to dismantle and transform the nation (and apparently to sell us out to other countries), if he is granted four more years to gut our founding principles about which Senator Rubio speaks so eloquently, there may be no national stage left for Senator Rubio to take.  So let us all hope that he will change his timeline, and make the left’s worst nightmare come true with a Romney/Rubio republican ticket.

Wishing We Could Fight the War on Women the Old-Fashioned Way

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The war against women rages on.  The media propogandists continue to carry the water for the president, his democrats, and all his leftwing minions, but it hasn’t gone precisely as they had all hoped.  When the whole ridiculous contraception business failed, they found themselves having to defend their own vicious name-calling against the likes of Sarah Palin, Michele Bachmann — and, by extension, any and all women with conservative leanings.  The president even threw together a last-minute “conference” of so-called experts on women, designed to convince the American people that we of the right, indeed anyone who opposes Obama, socialized medicine, socialism, gun control, global warming, electric cars, voter fraud, or our families’ responsibilty to pay for a college student’s contraception  —  we all hate women.  At the same time, the president of the United States complimented the activist law student who started the manufactured contraception brouhaha, telling us he hopes that one day his own daughters will model themselves after her (thus convicing this mom that his idea of good parenting and behavior worthy of parental pride differs vastly from my own).

The tactic has failed.  We know cow manure when we see it.  But the left has had no choice but to stay the course, next setting their sites on Ann Romney, the wife of probable republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney.  As a a stay-at-home mom, she — and, by extension, all stay-at-home moms — they have claimed, can’t possibly understand the pressures of economic instability and life beyond the front door (never mind that their guy is responsible for that economic instability and the obstacles designed to maintain it).  Indeed the name-calling continues, ever the sign that the namecallers have no cogent arguments in their arsenal.

This has all left me wishing we could settle this score the old-fashioned way and be done with it.  The trips down memory lane over the past weeks to those moments when unspeakable names were repeatedly hurled at conservative women (and their children), have me wondering if perhaps it’s time to let loose the men in the lives of the women and children being used as fodder for the liberal agenda/comedy act.  I would presume that many of those men — husbands, fathers, brothers, sons, uncles — strain at their leashes every time their women and children are described in unrepeatable terms, all to the delight of the gleeful, giggling audiences of leftwing talk-show hosts, politicians and so-called comedians.

So imagine, if you will, Maher, Letterman, one of them, again spouting some trashy, anatomy-laced anecdote about, say, Sarah Palin and her youngest daughter, the rant met with wild applause from a carefully chosen audience.  Not this time, pal! shouts Sarah’s hubby, Todd.  With Sarah’s dad and oldest son in tow, Todd treks to New York, coldcocks the perpetrating funnyman a good one in the jaw, and informs him that he will heretofore cease and desist in describing Todd’s family, the people he loves, in such a base and degrading manner.  Would love to see that.  Wouldn’t you?

Of course, the men in the lives of left-leaning women are welcome to defend their own loved ones in like fashion, if, of course, those men have the muscle and wherewithal to back up such efforts (the men mentioned here — Letterman, Maher, the president…eh, probably not).  Back in the day such manly behavior would not only be expected, it would be applauded.  And today?  Well, litigated, of course.  But we can dream, can’t we?