Posted on February 22nd, 2009 by D. Aristophanes
Manning the ramparts against the appeasement of black-mustachioed tyrants in far-off lands, not to mention the impudent do-as-ye-please-ism proffered by domestic race-baiters who would tax up to several percentage points more of our hard-inherited wealth, we present Victorious Delphan Hessian hisself, VDH for short:
Our Battered American
I am meeting a few battered Americans these days. There are not many left, but those that are seem to sound alike.
It’s true — the work of folks like this has improved the lot of many victims of domestic violence … I’m sorry, that’s not what you meant by ‘battered’? Pray carry on.
Yes, I think I am beginning to understand Mr. Battered American, and he sounds tired and a bit like this.
‘I’m sorry Mr. President, but we are just not dictatorial in the Middle East. You said the Saudis, not America, showed courage over there. But, Mr. President, the Saudis, they live under Sharia law! And my God! — they once engineered crippling oil boycotts against our nation.’
Well, yes, but that was way back in 1973 — at the very beginning of history itself! As scientists have shown, it was a mere tenth of a millionth of a trillionth of a trillionth of a trillionth of a second following the Big Bang that the universe had cooled off sufficiently to allow the formation of OPEC. Must we really venture so far back in the musty past of US-Saudi relations just to prove a point, Mr. Hessian?
‘And wasn’t it they who produced 15 of the 19 killers on 9/11? So no, Mr. President, those Saudis — they simply are not courageous.’
To be fair, some have argued that more than half of the citizens of Saudi Arabia (pre-9/11 population: 31) did NOT participate in the events of that tragic day, so it is wrong to tar them all with the actions of the minority. But as VDH might counter — this just highlights the cowardice of ALL Saudis, seeing as how the dissenters had numbers on their side.
‘Now Mr. Biden, there is no reason to set the reset button on foreign policy, as you promised all those Europeans. None at all. Tell that resetting stuff instead to Ahmadinejad, Chavez, that Korean nut, Putin, and all the other thugs who kill and cause misery, but not to our America that saves and feeds and helps.’
There’s a bumper sticker slogan in here somewhere. Perhaps: ‘Speak softly and carry a big reset button.’ Or: ‘The sun never sets on the American reset button.’ Better still: ‘We have to reserve the right to set the reset button on the niggers.’ Even better: ‘Hey world! Go fuck yourself!’
‘Mrs. Clinton, it’s now your turn. We are not impulsive as you told the world. So you can stop apologizing for America’s recent behavior — unless you think the world would be a better place with the Taliban, and Saddam and his two boys in power.’
Fucking suffragettes. Does their molly-coddling know no bounds? There was nothing ‘impulsive’ about the so-called ‘rush to war’ with Iraq — why it took the better part of a year of fear-mongering and misinformation to get the likes of Hilary Clinton to greenlight it! How soon we forget!
As he thinks about this apology business, the battered American always gets a little angrier, ‘And another thing. Mr. Holder, I’ve never said or done a racist thing in my life, not one. Always supported equal opportunity, always will. So don’t call me a “coward” or my countrymen “cowards,” not when you’re my Attorney General.’
Indeed, Mr. Holder. How many illegals did you put to work tilling the soil at your ancestral estate? Hmm? Or conversely, how many did you NOT hire when it became politically toxic to do so? Double-hmm!
‘When I was in high school I was taught that name-calling like that might be what they said was “projection”.’
Ah, yes — Mr. Battered Amercian remembers that lesson well. Unfortunately, he came down with mono and missed the the following week’s course on ‘irony’.
Our battered American I noticed gets even more riled up and would say to our new energy secretary, ‘And another thing Mr. Chu, California isn’t going anywhere. What’s this dry up and blow away nonsense? You’re our Energy Secretary, not Jimmy Carter in his cardigan sweater or Al Gore doing interviews on that private jet.’
And when did those two charlatans ever come within sniffing distance of higher office? For shame, Mr. Chu! Incidentally, we’d put a huge dent in ‘global warming’ if Jimmy Carter and Al Gore joined forces and tried jetting around at 30,000 feet in a cardigan sweater. BWAHAHA, heh, etc.
‘So Americans aren’t going to “vanish” in rural California. We’re proud that we created, by blood, and hard work, and suffering, the richest agricultural valleys in the world.’
And tortillas, we might add. Blood, hard work, suffering and tortillas. Sometimes we even went without the tortillas. So screw you, Mr. Chu! You weren’t there in El Valle with the campesinos when the shit went down with the right-wing Anglo oppressors!
‘They won’t disappear soon — at least not if you allow us to have the water that our great-grandfathers tapped and brought down from the Sierra, instead of letting it run full blast into the sea so that Speaker Pelosi’s mice can live more nicely in the bay than we do on our farms.’
And by ‘mice’, asshole, we mean ‘salmon’ — which are like rodents with gills.
Finally, Mr. Battered American would snap back to Mr. President: ‘I played by the rules, and put a little away in my 401(k). I knew the risks, not because the broker, the bank, or the firm told me all the risks, but because I never shook hands with any of them or even knew those who took my money and promised it was safe — and so I was never sure it really was. And I lost 30 percent of it. I will live by that too.’
And what’s more, Mr. President, I put all this stiff-upper lip shit at the very end of this column. So you can bet 99 percent of my readers aren’t going to get this far, which is bad for you because this is where I completely lose all the pissed-off rubes who read me, because they’re absolutely banking on a handout just like everybody else in this toilet bowl of an economy. Thus, they get the cake of ginned-up outrage while still holding out hope of eating a fat slice of stimulus, too. Top that, asshat!
