19 August 2013

Why Can't We Be Friends?

From the LA Times (Why do I bother with publications that have "Times" in the title?).

Madeline Janis, some leftist broad, a writer for the Times and the national policy director of a group called the Los Angeles Alliance for a New Economy (yeah, that name is transparent), writes a very disgusting piece about her late father.

Her father - name withheld - was 87 years old and very sick. He was a veteran and, she describes "highly educated — a psychiatrist with multiple advanced degrees in science and medicine. He was Jewish and deeply religious, donating regularly to charities helping those who struggled with life's challenges." This man is at the upper echelon of human achievement. He's very smart, well grounded, and very generous. This is not the kind of man you would expect to be treated as a racist, sexist, bigot, homophobe, mouth-breathing, kunckle-walking, talks with a Southern drawl, gun owning, Bible thumping, bitter clinging, brow ridged troglodyte, especially by his own daughter. Not with an introduction like that anyway.

"But he hated President Obama and thought that government was at the root of all evil."


We do not speak ill, NO, we do not think ill of dear leader! Dear leader is your new god. Bow down and worship him.

His other sin? He not only listened to, as if that was bad enough, but liked Rush Limbaugh! AAAHHH!!!!1 The horror! I...I can't. I have to go sit down and cry for a few minutes, this is too horrible.

He also had a few Rush Limbaugh caps, which he enjoyed wearing. The humanity!

I'm sorry. I shouldn't subject you to torture like that. I'll write it in small print.

Anyway, as I said earlier, her father was old and sick and in 'Murica when a parent can no longer live alone the child throws the parent in the trash. Yep. They put a roof over your head, clothes on your back, and food in your mouth for, what, fifteen years, and you can't return the favor when they get old. They changed your diapers when you were a baby and you can't do the same when they're an invalid. You disgust me.

So this broad was going to put her father, who she claims to love, in a home. In case you didn't know it, a home is not as good as it sounds. A home is a place where old people go to be abused, neglected, have their social security money stolen, and their prescriptions sold to teenagers who are looking for drugs. And this broad was not only going to put her father in a home, where she would not have to lift a finger to care for him, or ever have to see him again, but she whined "why can't we throw these Limbaugh caps away, which bring you so much joy in your final days? Limbaugh is a big, fat, smelly meanie. He is a racist, sexist, bigot, homophobe, and I know if he ever met me he would hate me! WAAA! WAA!"

He wouldn't hear it.

A few days later (I'm guessing; this article is written so poorly, jumping back and forth like a leprachaun who has had a few too many and has energy to burn), she goes back and her father tells her "sweetheart, I want to tell you something."

"Nope! I don't want to talk about it!" She pouted.

He continued anyway, "I've come to the conclusion that although I really like Rush Limbaugh, I love you more. So I'm going to give up the caps."

Maybe he really loved her that much. Maybe he was dying and didn't want to argue anymore. I think it's a little of both. The point is, this man decided to be the bigger man and give up his own happiness to make his spoiled brat daughter happy by throwing out his most prized possession which she hated. Then he died.

The worst is yet to come, folks. Yes, worse than what I've already told you. She writes an article in the LA Times about the incident with her deceased father. Wait, it gets worse! She says this "our love for each other and our family helped my father and me transcend the enormous ideological divide between us. It makes me wonder if there isn't something in these experiences that might help us, as Americans, transcend our political differences."

Did I miss something? She use her father's death as an opportunity to write about her selfish, arrogant, narrow-minded political ideology and claim that Rush and all people who listen to him are racist, sexist, bigot, homophobes, and she has the conceit to say at the end "why can't we all just get along?" She whined until she got her way from her dying father. Yep, she beat a dying man in an argument and then writes an article about it in a major newspaper. And she claims the moral high ground!

This broad then closes with "that could be a start, at least, at reaching across the gulf of ideology to work cooperatively and respectfully to solve the challenges facing the nation."

What a bitch.

You know why we can't be friends? You know why we can't get along? Let me tell you why we can't get along. YOU ARE THE REASON WE CAN'T ALL JUST GET ALONG!

Why is it that only conservatives are expected to compromise? Why must conservatives be the only ones who "cross the aisle"? The left is absolutely perfect and doesn't need to change, but the right is racist, sexist, bigot, homophobe and has to transform into their very opposite to stop being meat eating, mouth breathing, truck driving, gun owning troglodytes.

You, madam, are the problem. You are the intolerant one. You are the one who needs to compromise. You complained and whined and didn't yield, while your father kept giving in, and you were never happy. You threw your father away like garbage when he needed you most. If you were to die tomorrow and rot in Hell I would throw a party celebrating the fact that the world got just a little bit better without you being in it. You never listened to Rush Limbaugh and yet you judged him and condemned him. You never listened to your father's point of view and you judged him too and berrated him in his dying days for liking a man whom you despise for purely blind ideological reasons. You are what is wrong with this country, nay, this world. People like you are the reason we can't get along.

By the way, I saved the original article just in case the LA Times takes it down so that a permanent record exists.