by Burt Prelutsky
If you want to Comment directly to Burt Prelutsky, please mention my name Rudy. email@example.com
I’m not sure how long the Republicans and the Democrats have been back and forth about gun ownership, although it may have begun after the two demented teenagers opened fire at Columbine. After all this time, it’s gotten very tedious. On the one side, you have Democrats insisting that guns, themselves, are guilty of committing violence, and that in an ideal world, the 300 million currently in circulation in the United States would be beaten into plowshares.
That number is of course just an estimate, just like the 11 million illegal aliens we’ve been hearing about for 20 years. In both cases, I’m willing to bet the numbers are far higher. But even if 300 million guns is right on the money, fewer than one percent of them will ever be used in the commission of a crime.
The thing that I find most annoying about the endless debate is that no Republican politician, including those with a 100% rating from the NRA, ever confronts Nancy Pulosi, Chuck clown-Schumer or scum-Dick Durbin, and asks them why it is that they’re so concerned about disarming law-abiding citizens, but never show the slightest interest in doing anything to get weapons out of the hands of black gangbangers in places like Chicago, Baltimore, Houston and Detroit, who commit nearly all the homicides in America.
Apparently, reforming Social Security isn’t really the third rail, as they say, of American politics; targeting black criminals is.
If I had to come up with the single biggest cause of violence, it would be boys growing up in fatherless homes. Nobody should be too surprised that urban blacks are in the mess they’re in. When over 70% of black babies being born are born to unwed women, including teenage girls, and black boys are being raised by older boys in the local gangs, why would anyone dream that things will ever change for the better?
The bleeding hearts can wring their hands all they like and talk about lousy schools and second-rate teachers and blame society-at-large, but until the blacks begin changing their ways and liberals stop giving them a pass for generational misbehavior, they’re only kidding themselves.
⦿ Even though President Trump rescued us from any obligation to abide by the anti-capitalist mandates of the Paris Accords, those who still believe that scum-Al Gore was a weather prophet are still outraged.
They’re not bothered at all that after creating the Global Warming hoax, scum-Gore renamed it Climate Change, in order to keep the money rolling in even after it was shown that the polar icecap hadn’t melted and the seas had not risen on schedule.
The cockeyed governor of Connecticut, Dannel Malloy went so far as to claim that Trump was solely motivated by a desire to undo what he actually referred to as “liar-nObama’s legacy,” and had no coherent agenda of his own. In fact, he went so far as to say: “If Trump had followed Lincoln, he’d have tried to reinstate slavery.”
Do these people ever listen to themselves? More to the point, do their constituents?
I mean, when Nancy Pulosi suggests that instead of building a wall at the border, a better way of securing the nation’s sovereignty might be to mow the grass, aren’t her constituents the least bit embarrassed to be represented by a doddering old dingbat? Or do the folks in San Francisco who keep re-electing her just chuckle and say: “That’s just Nancy being Nancy” the way some of us might say at the annual Christmas feast: “That’s just Uncle Ned being Uncle Ned” when Uncle Ned, after hitting the spiked egg nog all afternoon, falls asleep with his head in the mashed potatoes?
⦿ Someone sent me a photo of a young woman carrying a sign reading: “Stop Killing Aligators to Make Gatoraid.”
My initial reaction was to assume it had been photo-shopped, but the more I thought about it, the more I found myself thinking it was for real and that I was giving the benefit of the doubt to someone who probably didn’t deserve it. For one thing, I have seen the young dummies carrying actual signs that were even more insipid, and that had at least an equal number of misspellings. How many college students, after all, could get 100% on a spelling test that included multi-syllabic words like alligators and Gatorade?
⦿ I watched Donald Trump give his speech in Pennsylvania on behalf of Rick Saccone, the GOP candidate in Pennsylvania’s special election. It was, as usual, great theater, especially when he impersonated a robot, showing what he’d look and sound like if he decided to satisfy those who insist he should act presidential.
The secret of Trump’s success with crowds is that he feeds off them by being the opposite of presidential; he’s authentic. Everyone in the crowd could easily imagine Trump putting on the show just for him or her, even if there weren’t 20,000 other people in the room. When have any of us ever heard another politician speak to us in the casual, off-hand, way they’d talk to a friend?
Trump is like the best of the stand-up comedians. The hacks stick to their memorized routines. But, Trump will go off script if he senses that the crowd is tired of the usual blah-blah. After his address, I heard some of the pundits say that he talked more about himself than the person he was there to support. In other words, they faulted him because he didn’t deliver the usual blah-blah.
What Trump instinctively knows is that people aren’t going to vote for a nebbish like Rick Saccone just because another politician tells them to; however, they might if the other guy comes across as smart and entertaining, and he tells them he personally knows and likes the nebbish. Unfortunately, even Trump wasn’t enough to drag Saccone’s limp carcass across the finish line.
⦿ I don’t watch a lot of modern-day movies, and it’s not only because so many actors and actresses have turned themselves into shills for the Democrats. A lot of it has to do with the fact that movies are the only place I know of where people are constantly entering rooms at night and not turning on the lights. Even when they do, it’s usually nothing more than a table lamp. In real life, they would have walked into a couch or busted a toe on a chair leg before they got there.
It seems that somewhere along the way, directors and their cinematographers decided it was time to bring back radio. Either that, or the money they’re saving on electricity and light bulbs is going straight into their pockets.
⦿ Speaking of which, the one really funny bit that took place during the Oscars is when Sandra Bullock came on stage to present one of the awards. Although she is 53 years old and looks very attractive, she told the fellow in charge of the lights at the Kodak Theater to dim them. He did. She then told him to keep dimming them, as she counted backwards. When she got to 38, she told him that was enough. It got a pretty big laugh, but it would have been even bigger if half the audience wasn’t sitting there wishing the lights had been dimmed for the entire evening.
In fact, during the four hour snoozefest, while award winning men thanked their husbands and award-winning women thanked their wives, and everyone thanked their beloved agents, the only people nobody acknowledged were their plastic surgeons.
⦿ I’m reminded how much I’ve always disliked self-publicists – writers like Ernest Hemingway and Norman Mailer who spent so much time creating their images as tough guys that I always wondered when they had the time to write.
Just as bad was Marlon Brando, who created his own tiresome persona by riding a motorcycle, playing the bongos and mumbling pretentious platitudes, none of which had anything to do with acting. Or perhaps it had everything to do with it in his case.
More recently, we’ve had the likes of Paris Hilton, the Kardashians and Colin Kaepernick, people famous for being famous, not for any actual achievements.
Then there are those, people like Joy Behar, “Morning Joe” Scarborough and the O’Donnell’s – Rosie and Lawrence – famous because they’re on TV. But nobody knows exactly why they’re on TV because, as a rule, if you’re an ignoramus, you only get to show up regularly on the tube if you hold elected office.
⦿ And now, the moment you’ve awaited, when I reveal which of the Commandments you find most difficult to obey.
In case you don’t recall them offhand: #1 strongly advises you not to have any gods except God if you know what’s good for you. Number two warns you off false idols, although millions continue to bow down to Barack liar-nObama and liar-Hillary Clinton. Number three is another one reminding you who’s boss: Don’t use his name in vain, which is just a fancy way of telling you not to use God’s name as a curse word. Number four lets you know that God rested on the seventh day, and if He did, you should, too. Among the people of the world, it’s pretty evenly divided whether He put up His feet on Saturday or Sunday. In a way, this is my favorite Commandment because I try to treat every day like the Sabbath. Number five calls for honoring your parents; not necessarily for loving them, which is sometimes impossible, but acknowledging they gave you the most precious gift of all: Life. Number six reminds you not to kill, but theological experts and I both insist that it is murder that’s prohibited, not killing. Number seven prohibits adultery; number eight prohibits stealing; number nine prohibits bearing false witness; and number 10 warns you not to covet what is your neighbor’s, including his wife.
Twenty-four of you responded, 17 men and seven women.
Three of you admitted that you had trouble with the first of the Commandments, which suggests that you might have to settle for accommodations somewhere other than Heaven.
Another three of you fessed up to using the Lord’s name in vain. At least the first three won’t be alone.
Although nobody mentioned golf, nine people crapped out when it came to observing the Sabbath.
One of you claimed to have a problem honoring your parents. I chose to assume it’s because they voted for Jimmy Carter.
Three of you admitted to having murder in your hearts, so I’ll keep my wisecracks to myself.
One guy admitted that adultery was his number one temptation, while one woman confessed that she sometimes told lies. I have no idea if they know each other.
Three people came clean about coveting something of their neighbor’s, but I don’t know if it’s his wife or, this time of year, his snow blower.
If you want to Comment directly to Burt Prelutsky, please mention my name Rudy. firstname.lastname@example.org