A Bridge To Everywhere We Want To Be

Let's face it, because facing it is what we Americans do best, no matter what it may be, or where, or when, or why --

Sarah Palin knocked it out of the park last night.

Which, admittedly, makes it harder to face, unless, of course, she knocked us out of the park too, which she did, so there we are, right next to it, and therefore, facing it. Facing it hard, facing it well, facing it strong, as Americans do, as Joe Sixpack and hockey moms everywhere in this fine land from sea to shining sea always do, and will, and have, since time immemorial.

Yet, in the end, this is not the most important thing. Sarah Palin isn't President yet, although she'd make a fine one, and will, one day, God willing and the creek don't rise. But that is for the future, not the dim dead past that Obama and Biden keep trying to fruitlessly invoke, instead of looking forward to a new era of change and growth and progress and keeping government on the side of the little guy while getting it out of his way and off his back at the very same time.

No, the only thing that matters, the only matter of importance, the only vital question we have to answer, is this:

If Obama or McCain had been King of America since 1908, would we better off... or worse?

And is that, you know, absolute king, or more of a titular figurehead, like they have in England, except they don't, because they have a Queen?

These are important questions, and the answers are important answers, and here is all any sane person can say about any of this --

If McCain had been king, absolute king, his whim is law, his word is binding, his very breath is as the breath of God, that kind of king, here in America since 1908., we would clearly be better off, because McCain is honorable, he's the original maverick, he's one of a kind, he was a POW, he's like Gandhi, if Gandhi had weapons training and a bayonet collection and a really hot wife. He's like Ronald Reagan, without the Reaganesqueness, he's like Calvin Coolidge, with a little less nostril hair. He's everything we want, he's everything we need, and if he were king of America for the last century, then we would be everything exciting that we think we should be.

There's no arguing with that assertion, there's no disputing its basic, fundamental truth. The America of King McCain, the USA that would exist after a McCain Century, is the American Dream brought to life, ten thousand points of light all glowing like beacons in a shining city on the hill, for the rest of the world to raise their envious eyes up to and yearn for, from the depths of the cold stinking caves we would have long since bombed them back into.

But suppose Obama had been king for the last ten decades? What images spring to mind, what emotions are evoked in our innermost hearts, what fears and vacillations and vicissitudes would fill our brains with dread and our souls with shrieking horror then? It's like a mirage, a dream, a dark, screaming nightmare we could never awake from, an unending cascade of vividly gruesome dioramas, each more loathsome than the last. But one stands out to me, and it's one I will share with you now --

Had Obama been King of America for the last hundred years, Jerry Siegel and Joe Schuster would never have created Superman. It's inarguable; in a culture dominated by Obamania for decades on end, there would be no driving need for two young Jewish guys to create a Caucasian alien with superhuman powers -- or, if they had, they would certainly not have designed a costume for Superman that had a cape.

Why? You need only ask yourself, does Obama wear a cape? Has he ever worn a cape? No, and no, and no again. And given the enormous impact all kings in America have always had on the fashions worn by imaginary cartoon characters, we can only assume that in an Obama-dominated America, even if Superman were to exist, he would have no cape.

It therefore follows that in an Obama led USA, no small child of any generation ever pinned a towel or a blanket around his or her neck and then ran around the house with their arms held straight out in front of them screeching "Whoosh! Whoosh! I'm SUUUUUPERMAAAAAANNNNN!!!"

Can you imagine it? Can you envision it? Can you picture this dreadful apparition in full Technicolor in that little goldfish bowl you call your mind? In this horrible nightmare of an Obama world, you never pinned a towel around your neck and ran around pretending to be Superman. Your grandfather never did it, your father never did it, your brother never did it, your cousin never did it, your kids will never do it, NO ONE has ever done it.

Because in Obama land, there is no Superman.

Or if there is... he has no cape.

It brings a tear to my eye and a lump to my throat; a grit to my teeth and a clench to my toes; a twist to my stomach and a shudder to my spine.

Maybe you want to live in that world. Maybe lily livered pansy gay marriage promoting abortion hugging liberals would LOVE that world. Maybe that's a world where they can all join hands and sing 'Kumbaya' and never never never send a terrorist to Gitmo. Maybe. Maybe giving up Superman, or at least his cape, and the innocent joy of millions of children running and leaping and whooshing about, is a small price to pay for left wingers to live in that sort of dirty hippie neo-socialist tax and spend utopia.

But that's not the world any real American wants to live in. Not a patriotic American, anyway. Such a world can never be, must never be, and shall never be. I know that. And in your heart, you know it too.

Sarah Palin knocked it out of the park last night, and knocked us out of the park right along side it. And Superman has a cape, and always will.

That's all I know. And it's all I need to.

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