This morning on my way to a staff meeting I tuned into the local news station hoping to catch a traffic report. Instead, I was treated to a rather animated reading of this article, which both frightened me and made me laugh out loud. I’ve often believed that one can say a great deal of powerful stuff through comedy because it both heals and delivers. This article does just that. It paints a picture of Obama that is too frighteningingly true.
For some time, Mark Shea, a well-known Catholic blogger and all-around funny guy has been tagging his Obama posts with The Son of God because the public falls over him like he is a god–really, I’m just too lazy to find the references about “enlightenment” and other spiritual consequences of coming into contact with him, but I will later, if only to lend myself some credibility here. But I digress.
As I was saying, I tuned into the local station to find Neal Boortz, bombastic and sarcastic fellow, reading this article from TimesOnline. A brilliant piece! Take your happy little mouse clicker over there now and read it. The rest of my post can wait.
What’d you think? Brilliant, I know! Imagine my surprise when I found the link to the article at Shea’s blog. Here’s the bigger surprise, though — as I was reading the combox, I ran across this EVEN BETTER COMMENT. With apologies, of course, to Mark for hijacking it, I am posting the comment here until somebody tells me to take it off because I’ve already sent my gentle readers all over the place with links. Still, you should follow the link and read the entire mess for yourself.
Dear Editor, Times-Dispatch:
‘Each year I get to celebrate Independence Day twice. On June 30 I celebrate my Independence Day, and on July 4 I celebrate America’s. This year is special, because it marks the 40Th anniversary of my independence.
‘On June 30, 1968, I escaped Communist Cuba, and a few months later, I was in the United States to stay. That I happened to arrive in Richmond on Thanksgiving Day is just part of the story, but I digress.
‘I’ve thought a lot about the anniversary this year. The election-year rhetoric has made me think a lot about Cuba and what transpired there. In the late 1950s, most Cubans thought Cuba needed a change, and they were right. So when a young leader came along, every Cuban was at least receptive.
‘When the young leader spoke eloquently and passionately and denounced the old system, the press fell in love with him. They never questioned who his friends were or what he really believed in. When he said he would help the farmers and the poor and bring free medical care and education to all, everyone followed. When he said he would bring justice and equality to all, everyone said, ‘Praise the Lord.’ And when the young leader said, ‘I will be for change and I’ll bring you change,’ everyone yelled, ‘Viva Fidel!’
‘But nobody asked about the change, so by the time the executioner’s guns went silent, the people’s guns had been taken away. By the time everyone was equal, they were equally poor, hungry, and oppressed. By the time everyone received their free education, it was worth nothing. By the time the press noticed, it was too late, because they were now working for him. By the time the change was finally implemented, Cuba had been knocked down a couple of notches to Third-World status. By the time the change was over, more than a million people had taken to boats, rafts, and inner tubes. You can call those who made it ashore anywhere else in the world the most fortunate Cubans. And now I’m back to the beginning of my story.
‘Luckily, we would never fall in America for a young leader who promised change without asking, what change? How will you carry it out? What will it cost America?
‘Would we?’
Manuel Alvarez, Jr.
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