The time has come to call out crackpots who still incredibly somehow believe that “President Obama is a Muslim” and expose them as the stupendously stupid sacks of shit they truly are.
Despite his 6 long years and 241 days and nights in the White House while attending hundreds if not thousands of state functions, there are still tens of millions of United States citizens who earnestly believe and defiantly maintain that President Obama is a devoted practitioner of the Islamic faith, which in this overzealous era poisoned with so much fear mongering actually is intended to imply that he’s “anti-American” or worse, part of some Marxist conspiracy to wipe out Christian America.
Poll: Majority of Republicans think Obama is a Muslim [The Hill]
Nearly 30 percent of Americans still think Obama is a Muslim [Daily Mail]
If you’re not watching ESPN’s award-winning “30 for 30” series, you’re missing some great television.
Initially debuting in 2009 and broadcasting new subject matter continuously ever since, these 1- to 2-hour full-length feature documentaries crafted by several top filmmakers aren’t about sports so much as the fascinating people who play the games and transform themselves into cultural icons, along the way experiencing staggering heights and breathtaking joys, but just as often enduring unimaginable frustration, loss, and sometimes even tragedy. Such are the risks of involuntarily assuming the role of a sports hero in the modern mass media age when the lens or the microphone is omnipresent, which as we see over and over again in so many heart wrenching stories from all parts of the world — no matter what the endeavor — sporting fame and riches aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.
How many of the pissed-off rich people who live in swanky houses along Silverstone Golf Club in Las Vegas call themselves “free-market capitalists?” What’s the breakdown of those within that wealthy gated enclave who support the sanctity of private property rights?
Bear with me, now. I’m looking for some philosophical consistency. But I don’t expect to find it. What I do expect to uncover is this — hypocrisy. Good old-fashioned “not in my back yard (NIMBY)” hypocrisy.
Sure, protecting and defending private property ownership is sacrosanct within conservative and libertarian circles. The belief held is that a property owner can do pretty much what he or she damn well pleases. After all, it’s their home. It’s their land. Accordingly, homeowners and landowners have a fundamental right to use their property as they wish, so long as the fair use of the land is legal and doesn’t infringe upon the rights of others.
Sure sounds good, doesn’t it?
Trouble is, the real world isn’t guided by principles, nor consistent patterns of belief. This is especially true when lots of rich people get angry.
Meet Donald Trump’s newest challenger.
That’s right. You read it here first.
Look at the facts. The candidate leading the G.O.P. pack right now is a megalomaniac who bleaches his hair bright orange. He’s blundered his way through several failed businesses and has filed for bankruptcy four times. He rambles incoherently without a script each time he steps in front of a camera. What he says often offends millions of people. And, he’s wasted half of his life hanging out inside casinos.
If those are credentials for the most important job in the world, then I don’t just have a fighting chance. Hell, with my resume that should make me the frontrunner.
Ladies and gentlemen, I hereby announce my candidacy for President of the United States….as a Republican.\
America would be hard pressed to find a more despicable political autocrat than Dick Cheney, who not only refuses to disappear, but just won’t shut up.
Indeed, given his own beastly record and the volumes of hogwash he’s promulgated over the years, one would expect some quiet restraint, humility, and perhaps even an apology.
Not happening. Apparently, this congenital liar and corrupt war profiteer just released a new book, and now expects us all to take notice of his vast “wisdom.”
Excuse me while I choke on my own vomit, while busting a testicle from laughter.