Hillary Clinton Craps on my Dreams of a Glorious Trump v Sanders Debate
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This gladdens my heart.
President Obama knows the scandals are phony. He knows his administration has nothin’ to hide.
He’ll order the Justice Department and Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms to stop stonewalling the “fast-and-furious” investigation. We’ll learn that Mexican drug gangsters merely found the weapons and were on their way to the police to turn them in when the weapons accidentally discharged, tragically killing American border patrol agents and other men, women and children: so sad, but a mere mistake, none the less—certainly no scandal.
Maybe the President will say it’s “just the cost of chooming.”
He’ll order the IRS to stop stonewalling the investigation of its disturbing propensity to favor leftists and stymy conservatives . . . right away, Mr. President, before the IRS assumes control of America’s health insurance and tells people that, no, they don’t get coverage because they voted for the wrong candidates: before the IRS acts out your pledge to “help those who support us and punish those who oppose us”—nope, no scandal here.
He’ll order the CIA to stop clamping down on its members with information about the Benghazi incident, and we’ll learn that it was just another big, silly mistake and have a good laugh about it: a riot over a bad video, can you imagine? Who’da thought? A few US administration-sanctioned murders here (including a US ambassador—woops!), a few there, maybe some military hardware in the hands of the wrong people: what difference does it make, anyway, and why do these obstructive, oppositional republicans call this a scandal? Are they racists?
Yeah, racists, Mr. President: Call them racists. Say that. That’ll work.
He’ll order everybody working in his administration: just tell all. These scandals are phony. Nothin’ will come from these investigations. We have nothin’ to hide. We’re all just honest, hard-workin’ Americans, doin’ Spike Lee’s “right thing” and stoppin’ those big oil companies that rip people off.
Yeah, that’s it. Say that. Be sure to mention Spike Lee. He makes movies.
Barack Obama will stop politicizing the Zimmerman/Martin incident and admit that, yes, George Zimmerman and Roderick Scott both had the legal right to defend themselves with deadly force.
Hey Mr. President, Trayvon Martin could’ve been you, or your son, if you had a son, and maybe you could’ve been Roderick Scott, pullin’ your pistol and standin’ your ground.
What’s more, Obama will decry media and quasi-political opportunists who’ve distorted, exploited or—scandalously—failed to fairly broadcast the Zimmerman/Martin and Scott/Cervini events. Holding “phony scandals” in extreme disregard, he’ll quell the hoopla surrounding Zimmerman/Martin by admitting that, while it was a sad incident, the “scandal” surrounding it was—What’s his word? Oh, yes—”phony” from the start, and we all have more important things on which to focus.
Joy of joys, Barack Obama will finally quit stalling the Keystone pipeline. He’ll quit spouting off erroneous—or perhaps deliberately misleading—information about the number of “jobs” it will create. In fact, he’ll finally admit that the Keystone pipeline isn’t so much about “jobs” as it is about supplying America with the lower-cost fuels it needs to function: something that will help every American, including the “middle class,” on which he has vowed to focus.
After all, Mr. President, you do want to help all Americans, right? You do want the economy to strengthen and provide working-class Americans with the leverage of a stronger job market, don’t you? You certainly aren’t siding with those evil, filthy rich people—not even your big donation bundlers—who benefit from a weak job market, are you?
You’re not gonna let your penchant for petty, ideological palavering get in the way. You’re gonna get to work, yessir, and build that pipeline, and rebuild America’s infrastructure, and . . ..
You go, Mr. President. (Fist pump. Beer. Yay!) Stop all this silliness. Roll up your shirtsleeves, get back in the saddle and down to brass tacks. Let the chips fall where they may and bygones be bygones. It’s water under the bridge, and time waits for no man. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth or count your chickens before they’re hatched. Punch above your weight, and don’t bring a gun to a knife fight because, by golly, winning isn’t everything.
It’s the only thing.
Yeah, that’s it. Say that.