For the first time in ages, I am proud to be an American, proud of my president and hope to be proud of my government. And I am not merely proud that my President is African American. I am proud also because we chose to elect him to the White House and, in doing so, eschewing the media and right wing fear mongers. I am proud of my fellow Americans. I am only starting with President Obama.
"One of Us" is a perfect example of a comfort song. It was way overplayed when it was popular; it was the theme song of a bad TV series; it flirts with drippiness the whole way through. But when the lyric reaches "Just a stranger on the bus trying to make his way home," I am hooked. I like songs about people going home, or looking for home, or whatever. I have issues. Songs have issues.
But it occurred to me yesterday while watching the extraordinary crowd reaction to the new president-to-be that the only way Democrats have won the White House in the last twenty-eight years is to run extraordinarily charismatic candidates -- the kind that don't come marching into politics every day. When we don't have candidates as with the kind of force of personality that Barack Obama has, and that Bill Clinton had, we lose. And I'm sorry, folks, but that means that we still aren't getting the message out.
however, letting people label them as "entitlements" also lets people imply that they are not things i and millions of americans have earned, and thusly are bound to be taken away on a moral basis, quite incorrectly, thus profiting the elite class.
The time in 1843 that a fan of his -- Robert Tyler, son of President John Tyler –- got him invited to the White House to meet the President, at which time he blew an opportunity to gain valuable support and status by showing up drunk and trying to sell Tyler a magazine subscription.
A series of crouched, grimacing figures in limestone runs across each wing: a cook stirring a pot, taking a taste with his finger; a man with a spoon eagerly eating from a bowl; another carrying a platter with a roast chicken; and a man with a long flowing beard writing in a ledger with a quill pen.
Without the rule of law, we are no longer the United States of America. We may bear the same name, but the heart is rotted, the head corrupt, the limbs twisted and foul.
But, we’re booksellers, dammit, and if you really want it, I will order it and send it to you. The book costs $100.00; shipping will be $75.00. A bit steep, you think? You need to factor in, however, the amount of vomiting that we will have to endure in getting you this tome.
