President Max Headroom
The Last Night of the Proms is Great Britain’s annual culminating triumphal celebration of its culture through classical music and is traditionally held at Royal Albert Hall in London. But in 2002 the Proms were held at Buckingham Palace in a rare departure from the customary location at Royal Albert Hall. The reason why is evident when you watch this short video clip:
Under the direction of Sir Andrew Davis, the BBC Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, along with the Fanfare Trumpeters of Her Majesty’s Royal Marines, pay tribute to Queen Elizabeth II. Beloved by her countrymen, Queen Elizabeth II is the living symbol of freedom and benevolent rule to countries of the British Empire around the world. A model of decorum and dignity, Queen Elizabeth loves her country and her countrymen, and her subjects love her back – which is evident from the heartfelt anthem you just viewed.
Contrast the dignity of Queen Elizabeth with the gutter behavior of the man who would be America’s King, nay, Messiah.
The ancient Greeks identified two types of rhetoric. Noble rhetoric uplifts the spirit. Base rhetoric… ah, what the Hell, forget the definition – just replay the Obama clip. That defines it pretty darn well, don’t you think? Hey, Kenya! I know where your village idiot is! Seems we’re now the subjects of President Max Headroom.
Fine, Barack, you won. So I’ll write this column in language you can understand. I hope it helps you comprendo just what we think of you – while we’re all eating our cake, of course.
Barack, you and your guttersnipe friends epitomize all that is wrong in this country. For example, Rangel always reminds me of Pancho Villa, but without the sombrero. Jerrold Nadler is the long-lost twin brother to Jabba the Hut. He also moonlights at night as the Fail Whale. When I see Hillary, I think of Richard Nixon in drag; this is not change I can believe in. Besides, why would we trade a feminine Marxist for a Marxist feminist?
Oh, and mister liberal know-it-all Stephen Hawking – Stand up, Chuck! Let em’ see ya! Frankly, I don’t understand a thing Hawking says and I don’t think he does either! Not that it matters any. You see, God says that because of the laws of physics, Stephen Hawking is not necessary. Okay, that was a bit harsh. Honestly, I find Hawking’s body of work quite useful. One tidbit of wisdom I gleaned from the distinguished professor is that we now know there are aliens. Well of course there are, Stephen! There’s one in the White House.
So, Ann Coulter tells us that Barack, like Hawking, is an atheist. In that case, my apologies go to atheists everywhere. Barry’s in your camp, guys. There went the neighborhood. Personally, I don’t believe for an instant that Barack is an atheist. Barry’s religion is Barry. Barry worships at the altar of Barry. His church is a room full of mirrors. Besides, Barry isn’t worried about rumors that he is Muslim, either. In fact, he said that if he ever starts to worry about it, he will go to Allah for guidance.
A little piece of advice, Barney Frank: Don’t get cocky. You guys are all set to lose the midterm erections…ummm…elections! Besides, catheters piss me off. At least Clinton is funny. Barack Obama is just a pain in the ass. I don’t want to connect with Barack Obama on a “personal level.” Ever. Oh, and one last thing, Al Gore. We can see November from your spouse. Well, ex-spouse. You get the picture. One final question, Barney –do you think the shrimp-buying incident was merely Barack acting out his Swordfish envy? No excuses, Barney. Zombies hate fast food. Oh, yes, vampires suck, too.
And where would we be without Mr. Tingles, a.k.a. Chris Matthews? Rumors suggest that Mr. Tingles has been lapping up too much “tingle” from the urinal of late. Chris, you have no skills beyond the ability to play a scripted role – unless you call being a dedicated ideologue a skill. Chrissie, we all found out recently that Captain Kickass can’t even run meetings without a teleprompter. Now that’s just a lack of executive talent! I would really love to run your teleprompter, Chrissie, just for the giggle factor. Remember the teleprompter scene in Bruce Almighty? Ron Burgundy wasn’t bad either. Those idiots act as though the teleprompter is a magic mirror: “Prompter, Prompter on the wall, who’s the greatest of them all?” So Chrissie, you are still stuck on Style over Substance…and we are almost two years into this administration…you really are a slow learner.
And let us not forget Senator “Ma’am” Barbara Boxer. Man…Babs pulls all kinds of crap out of her derriere. How deep does that colon go? Fortunately, I’m a colon expert of sorts. The average human colon is 1.5 meters. The average liberal colon is 1.5 miles. I’d like to kick your ass, Babs, but perhaps I should be more specific as that covers a lot of territory. Babs, you bring a whole new meaning to boxer shorts.
Nancy Pelosi turns 70 today and her face turns 20. Unfortunately, she couldn’t blow out the candles on her cake cuz’ her lips can’t move. Yes, that’s right. There was a 7.1 magnitude earthquake in New Zealand last Friday. But didn’t you hear about the other one? A 3.6 magnitude earthquake hit Washington, DC. Reports are that Nancy Pelosi’s face is still in the same position.
But Nancy has never let a bit-o-shakin’ to distract her from romance. She really is the belle of the ball. In fact, now that same sex marriages are legal in Washington, DC, Barney Frank and Nancy Pelosi have announced a June wedding.
I’m sure Pelosi is going to denounce me by tomorrow at the latest, and she will do so with a straight face – of course, with all that Botox, she has no choice but to say it with a straight face. So, keep a stiff upper lip, Nancy…as well as the forehead and eyebrows. Oh, did you know that Obama’s speechwriter is Joe Biden? Yeah, it’s true. However, Obama’s last speech from the Oval Office was still so dull, that even with her Botox treatments; Pelosi couldn’t keep her eyes open.
Barack, you’re falling in the polls. What’s the matter, dude? Did you leave your Mojo in your other empty suit? You’re waiting for the Main Stream Media to save you? Ha! Don’t hold your breath like they held theirs – waiting eagerly by the mailbox for the Sham Wows you sent them to come in the mail. Now that they’ve got them, they have belatedly discovered its all Sham and no Wow. Currently, a few of those JournoListers have decided to cook themselves up some Obama – with a dash of macaca. I just hope the cooks realize that the Mojo turned into Obamalaise during the past 18 months. Be sure to remind them to always check the expiration dates of Mojo & Swagga brand Obama-related products. Frankly, Barack, I don’t think you ever had any Mojo, only BS. Barack, you remind me of Clackers. I bought them because they looked like fun. But then I had to throw them away after I kept getting hit in the head. Barack, you’re going down in history as the first president not to try to fix what is broken, but as the one who broke everything that was fixed. In other words, the demigod the MSM sold me as “cool” is a dork. Every time Barack opens his mouth I look for a used car being sold behind him.
But there is hope, my friends (channeling my inner John McCain.). “I won.” Nope. You lose. NOVEMBER! You think democrats are in a bad mood now, wait till November 3. Barack, do not get mad with others because they know more than you, it is not their fault.
November is why San Francisco is spending 78 million on anti-suicide netting for the Golden Gate Bridge. Imagine the carnage without it! Oh, and those friggin’ ugly drapes you wasted our money on, Barry…they’re coming down in 2012. That’s when Typhoid Barry loses steam, the oceans return to their normally higher levels, the planet is unhealed, and the crazed sex poodle gets his curly hairs straightened out. Barry isn’t a one term president. He’s a no term president. At least Jimmy and Bill showed up. This guy isn’t even present when he’s there. And in 2012, he won’t be there at all.
Barry, you won’t need that special secret program NASA has been working on for you – Teleprompter Contact Lenses. We’ve read all we want to out of you – and your little teleprompter, too. You’re not in Chicago anymore. So, in conclusion, Barry, please do something else really stupid today so that I can mock you again.
America, take away the Styrofoam columns, the teleprompter, and the Hopey-Changey poster, and there’s nothing there. It was an ad campaign for a fad item.
Hey, Sebelius! Why the long face? It’s not you – we could run Bugs Bunny and win. The carrot’s on me.