Saturday 7 December 2013

Unavoidable Conclusions

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     Once so much evidence makes itself....shall we say...evident, one must certainly be that willing juror who can readily say that the fellow in the dock is either guilty or innocent.
 
 
      It becomes quite certain, and one can state without fear of contradiction, that the leader of this Band of Bolshies....at least the temporal, honorary leader....is a nincompoop.  The interview with The Tingler,  offered up as evidence just recently, proved definitively that both the Tingler and the Boshshie Nincompoop were, are, and forever shall be incompetent, presupposing, elitist commie snots.

     The notion that Barack Obama can say with a straight face that the reason his free medical project had a bit of a problem is because the central government's bureaucracy is bulky, ineffective, and out-of-date will provide solace as well as inspiration to comedy writers for months if not years.
     One must, at times,  accept that hubris, stupidity, arrogance, insolence, ignorance, and conceit can conspire to assure a fool that he can say anything and it will be accepted as having appeared magically upon the wall, or been engraved on tablets on some high mountain by a Great Cosmic Force.

     The successes mount up....Solyndra Slug, the Fister Flop, The Shovel-ready Shuffle, the Cash-for-Clunker Junker, Fast and Furious, Benghazi, one budget charade-disaster after another, the disasterous exit processes with Iraq and Afghanistan, the laughable (if it weren't so sad) Syrian and Egyptian issues, the stabbing in the back of Israel, the sudden shift in Iranian policy....all symptoms of the Emperor's Fine Raiment Syndrome.  It is very much like Church's Fried Chicken.

Like the lady said in the Church's Fried Chicken
advertisement, "You gotta love it!"
 
More later.   It is very cold in our sub-tropical paradise on the Rio Grande in deepest South Texas, now in the mid-30s.  El Zorro wrote to assure us that on the other side of the Republic of Texas, quite close to the Red River, his temperature was around 9 degrees, with all kinds of frozen precipitation, but that he has several hundred pounds of propane, a fireplace with over 2 years of continual pruning and reserving of mesquite stored up, and a larder that will run out a little after Gabriel blows his trumpet.
El Gringo Viejo
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