The Republicans bring a knife to a
gunfight, and lose again.
By David Kahane
One of the most terrifying moments of my political
life came last summer at the Republican convention in St. Paul. No,
I don't mean seeing John McCain careering around the Xcel
Energy Center like Eyegore in Young Frankenstein, his face
frozen in a Lon Chaney Sr. rictus grin as he reached across the
aisle to his erstwhile friends in the media and got his hand bitten
off. Rather, I'm referring to the aftermath of Sarah
Palin's outrageous acceptance speech, which whipped up the
Rotary Club delegates into a frenzy of white-boy fury that not even
heckling by a brave Code Pink embed could deter. Truly a fascist
classic and one that sent shivers down our collectivist spines.
Even worse was the glaze of horror on the phizzes of the assembled
heroes of the Mainstream Media. Andrea Mitchell - yes, the very
same Andrea Mitchell, NBC News, Washington, whose employer saw
no conflict of interest at all when she married then
Fed pooh-bah Alan Greenspan - stood there gaping like a frog while
the rest of the assembled Finemans and Matthewses and Olbermanns
scurried around like roaches when the light gets turned on: What
the hell just hit us? For one horrible moment, it looked as if the
carefully crafted plans of David Axelrod, Rahm Emanuel, George
Soros, and the Second Chief Directorate, first department, of the
old KGB were about to gang agley.
Not only were we offended at the sheer effrontery of
McCain's pick: How dare the Republicans proffer this
déclassée piece of Wasilla trailer trash
whose only claim to fame was that she didn't exercise her right
to choose? Where were her degrees from Smith or Barnard, her
internships at PETA, the Brookings Institution, or the Young
Pioneers? We were also outraged that the Stupid Party had just
nominated a completely unqualified candidate nobody had ever heard
of, a first-term governor of Alaska whose previous experience
consisted of a small-town mayoralty. As opposed to our guy, Barry
Soetoro of Mombasa, Djakarta, and Honolulu, a first-term senator
nobody had ever heard of, whose previous experience had been as a
state senator (D., Daley Machine) in Illinois. After eight long,
illegitimate, lawless years of &*^%BUSH$#@! tyranny, how dare
you contest this election?
And so the word went out, from that time and place: Eviscerate
Sarah Palin like one of her field-dressed moose. Turn her life
upside down. Attack her politics, her background, her educational
history. Attack her family. Make fun of her husband, her children.
Unleash the noted gynecologist Andrew Sullivan to prove that
Palin's fifth child was really her grandchild. Hit her with
everything we have: Maureen Dowd of the
New York
Times, taking a beer-run break from her quixotic search for
Mr. Right to drip venom on Sister Sarah; post-funny comic David
Letterman, to joke about her and her daughters on national
television; Katie Couric, the anchor nobody watches, to give this
Alaskan interloper a taste of life in the big leagues; former
New York Times hack Todd 'Mr. Dee Dee Myers'
Purdum, to act as an instrument of Graydon Carter's wrath at
Vanity Fair. Heck, we even burned her church down. Even
after the teleological triumph of The One, the assault had to
continue, each blow delivered with our Lefty SneerTM
(viz.: Donny Deutsch yesterday on
Morning Joe), until
Sarah was finished.
You know what? It worked! McCain finally succumbed to his
long-standing case of Stockholm Syndrome ('My friends, you have
nothing to fear from an Obama presidency'), Tina Fey turned
Palin into a see-Russia-from-my-house joke, 'conservative'
useful idiots like Peggy Noonan and Kathleen Parker hatched her,
and finally Sarah cried
No más
and walked away. If we could, we'd cut off her head and mount
it on a wall at Tammany Hall, except there is no more Tammany Hall
unless you count Obama's Tony Rezko-financed home in Chicago.
And it took only eight months - heck, Sarah couldn't even have
another kid in the time it took us to destroy her.
That's the Chicago way!
Yes, my friends, it's once again time to quote Sean
Connery's famous speech from
The Untouchables, written
by David Mamet - the lecture the veteran Chicago cop gives a
wet-behind-the-ears Eliot Ness (Kevin Costner, back when he was a
movie star) while they sit in a church pew. 'You want to get
Capone? Here's how you get him: he pulls a knife, you pull a
gun, he sends one of yours to the hospital, you send one of his to
the morgue. That's the Chicago way!' If you just think of
us - liberal Democrats - as Capone you'll begin to understand
what we're up to. And we just put one of yours in the
morgue.
I don't know why I'm telling you this, but maybe now
you're beginning to understand the high-stakes game we're
playing here. This ain't John McCain's logrolling
senatorial club any more. This is a deadly serious attempt to
realize the vision of the 1960s and to
fundamentally
transform the United States of America. This is the fusion of
Communist dogma, high ideals, gangster tactics, and a stunning
amount of self-loathing. For the first time in history, the
patrician class is deliberately selling its own country down the
river just to prove a point: that, yes, we can! This country stinks
and we won't be happy until we've forced you to admit
it.
In other words, stop thinking of the Democratic Party as merely a
political party, because it's much more than that. We're
not just the party of slavery, segregation, secularism, and
sedition. Not just the party of Aaron Burr, Boss Tweed, Richard J.
Croker, Bull Connor, Chris Dodd, Richard Daley, Bill Ayers, the
Reverend Jeremiah Wright, and Emperor Barack Hussein Obama II. Not
just the party of Kendall 'Agent 202' Myers, the State
Department official recruited as a Cuban spy along with his wife
during the Carter administration. Rather, think of the Democratic
Party as what it really is: a criminal organization masquerading as
a political party.
If you had any sense, you would start using our tactics against us.
After all, you have a few lawyers on your side. Sue us. File
frivolous ethics complaints against all our elected officials
until, like Sarah, they go broke from defending themselves. (David
Paterson would be a good place to start.) Challenge the
constitutionality of BO2's legion of
fill-in-the-blank czars - none of whom have to be confirmed, or
even pass a security check. (Come to think of it, neither did
Barry.) Let slip your own journalistic dogs of war, assuming you
have any, to find Barry's birth certificate, his college
transcripts, whether he applied to Occidental as a foreign student,
and on which passport he traveled in 1981 to Pakistan with his
friend Wahid Hamid, for starters.
You might also want to think about interviewing New York literary
agent Jane Dystel, who a) contacted the totally unknown Obama in
the wake of an adulatory
New York Times piece in 1990 and
b) got him a $125,000 advance for a memoir that c) he couldn't
write, even after a long sojourn in Bali, which d) got the contract
canceled, whereupon e) Dystel got him $40,000 from another
publisher, following which f) the book finally came out to glowing
reviews and g) Obama fired her. Wouldn't she have an
interesting story to tell?
Of course, you won't. You're too nice, too enamored of
history and tradition to realize that the rules have changed.
Remember, I live and work in a town where, 'Hello, he
lied,' isn't a joke; we men of the Left are perfectly
comfortable lying, cheating, and stealing - hello, Senator Franken!
- in order to attain and keep political power. Not for nothing is
one of our mottos, 'By Any Means Necessary.' You see,
we're the good guys, and for us the ends always justify the
means. We are, literally, shameless, which is why Bill Clinton is
now a multi-millionaire and Eliot Spitzer is already on the
comeback trail.
In Saul Alinsky's
Rules for Radicals, 'the fourth
rule is:
Make the enemy live up to their own book of
rules.' This is the book that 'Reset' Rodham (what
ever happened to her?) and BHO II grew up reading and continue to
live by. If you don't understand that that's the way we see
you - as
the enemy - then you're too dumb to survive.
Remember that for us politics is not just an avocation, or even
just a job, but our
life. We literally stay awake nights
thinking up ways to screw you. And one of the ways we do that is by
religiously observing Alinsky's Rule No. 4.
Did Sarah stand for 'family values'? Flay her unwed-mother
daughter. Did she represent probity in a notoriously corrupt,
one-family state? Spread rumors about FBI investigations. Did she
speak with an upper-Midwest twang? Mock it relentlessly on
Saturday Night Live. Above all, don't let her motivate
the half of the country that doesn't want His Serene Highness
to bankrupt the nation, align with banana-republic Communist
dictators, unilaterally dismantle our missile defenses, and set
foot in more mosques than churches since he has become president.
We've got a suicide cult to run here.
And that's why Sarah had to go. Whether she understood it or
not, she threatened us right down to our most fundamental,
meretricious, elitist, sneering, snobbish, insecure,
Diagnostic
and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders bones. She was,
after all, a 'normal' American, the kind of person (or so
I'm told) you meet in flyover country. The kind that worries
first about home and hearth and believes in things like motherhood
and love of country the way it is, not the way she wants to remake
it.
What you clowns need, in other words, is a
Rules for Radical
Conservatives to explain what you're up against and teach
you how to compete before it's too late. Luckily, since I care
about money even more than I care about politics, I have just such
a book in the proposal stage, currently making the rounds of
various publishers, assuming any of them are wise enough to take me
up on it.
And, yes, this time it really is personal.
- David Kahane is pushing for a new
national holiday to commemorate the destruction of Sarah Palin, and
is hopeful that his senators, Barbara Boxer and Dianne Feinstein,
will co-sponsor it, along with Henry Waxman in the House. You can
second the motion at kahanenro@gmail.com or on Facebook.