'Lafayette Imposter' Throws Weight Behind Palin

The mysterious 'Lafayette Imposter' shows up in DC and makes it clear that he will support Palin - and it's not a subtle point he's making!  Quoted here in extenso: 

I'm sitting across the street from the White House, but I don't belong here.

The view out my window is of the President's church, or at least the one frequently attended by presidents. It's not really my window. It belongs to whoever owns the Hay-Adams hotel and its excellent restaurant Lafayette these days. But that's OK, It's not really the President's church. I don't really belong in such a storied place. I'm an imposter here at Lafayette still capable of deeply admiring the professionalism and kindness of the people who keep bringing their servants' hearts to my table along with coffee and juice, and the remarkable spirit of these people called Americans, many of whom (I would guess from their accents) will, as they spend their day on their feet here, occasionally remember other places they left behind.

I cannot tell you their politics, or even if they have politics, but I can tell you for certain that they believe America is better enough than where they were born to leave everyone and everything behind for it. I was born here but I share a kinship with them in this so strong, that if something arose outside this window that threatens to take it away from all of us, and I knew the whole outcome depended on me and the staff of Lafayette, as God is my witness I would join them in the streets with whatever we could carry out of the kitchen and fight.

There is a man and his family who live across the street from here in a house first occupied by John Adams. I wonder if he ever looks out at his church across the street. He doesn't seem to go to church anymore, now that he is President. I wouldn't be President if I couldn't go to church, but he doesn't seem to mind. This man had a kilometer-long bomb-proof tunnel built so he could visit the Ghandi Museum on his 200-million-dollar-per-day Imperial visit to India. For a fraction of that price we could build him his own church - a really nice, safe one worthy of such eminence - so I can't believe that going to church is very high on his list of things to do this week. When a President comes over to this little church and hits his knees every Sunday he shows me that he believes that he is answerable to Someone above himself for what he does across the street. When he doesn't it is hard for me to believe that he believes he is answerable to anyone but himself. Or that anyone else is for that matter.

Unlike the kind folks here at Lafayette who broke their lives in two with an epic voyage to live in a new place, the wife of the man who lives across the street says that she was never proud to be an American until her husband started running for office. Is it impolite or even blasphemous for me to remember in print the pastor that baptized their children, under whose ministry they sat for 20 years, screaming 'God Damn America' at the top of his lungs to great applause? Must I accept my President's assurances that he never really heard that sort of thing in 20 years? Because I know it can't be true and to do so feels strangely like being asked, or maybe even compelled, to believe a lie.

This man lies. And please spare me the cynicism that they all do it (though I admit many do). Inconsistencies and broken promises beset every human being who attempts to lead in public service, and we all tell stories about ourselves that are shaded by our perspective and a desire to be liked a little more.

But this man lies. I mean deliberately delivering propaganda to mislead the public and further the ends which he and the elite who support him intend to further. To demonize and dehumanize those who oppose him. To hide his agenda. To place blame anywhere but on himself for the decisions he has made with the stewardship that the American people have granted him and for which he remains accountable to his Maker whether he has a slot to fit Him in on Sunday or no.

I am afraid. I have been since they moved into my White House. Though I am an imposter at the Hay-Adams and at Lafayette I am not an imposter across the street. I am the landlord. Well - there are a few others that own it with me, but my ownership is no less real. One three hundred millionth of it is my property. And every four years I get a single vote on that blessed board of directors that decide who lives there. In just a few months I will vote my single share to divest him of his power and remind him that his share of that house is precisely the same as that of the imposter enjoying the oatmeal soufflé across the street and the wonderful chef who made it, and that my fellow American the chef and I own twice what he does.

I am afraid because he believes himself to be more than that, and because others believe him to be more than that. I know my history, and I know that the soul sickness that comes with power and the misdirected yearning for salvation that grants it to people like him has made many a divine Caesar and cast many a people into a statist hell with no easy way out.

The rain is starting. A hurricane is coming to this city just five days after an earthquake between the homes of Jefferson and Madison cracked the Washington Monument.

In 1776 an eerie, thin layer of fog stood above British troops obscuring Washington's occupation of Dorchester Heights in Boston in the clear air above. An epochal storm struck the British fleet at the battle of New York, and a freak squall roared up the York River out of nowhere cutting off escape to force the British surrender at Yorktown. I sit here honestly sharing the belief of those who witnessed these events firsthand that they evinced Divine Providence allowing this nation to be born. My belief in that is mocked as ancient superstition. Mocked, incidentally, by the same people who believe that the Earth is a sacred being angry with us for sullying her with our presence and who will doubtless say that the storm outside my borrowed window starting to blow the trees of the church without a President is a manifestation of her wrath.

Holding the ancient belief that one true God and His Son do in fact tell hurricanes, tectonic plates and even Presidents what to do, I wonder whether we at Lafayette are seeing a message outside. Whether something besides the storm and the earthquake really is happening outside our window that may take that America away from us. and whether the outcome really does depend in some way on each of us.

Behind me, a small boy just told his mom that the next time he comes to Washington, he wants to go in the White House and see what's inside. Mom assured him it would still be there. I'm pretty sure it will be, but I'm afraid for him of what might be inside, even more so because I know he's just a lamb who might easily be charmed by the winning toothy smile of a wolf wearing what's left of a skinned sheep.

Despite the earthquake, the storm and the man who lives across the street, I have hope.

Because along with ordaining the earthquake and the storm and the oatmeal soufflé, Providence has also sustained to this very hour for 222 years a nation under a constitution that allows us to get rid of Presidents trying to be kings. Founding Fathers wrote it, because it had been hard as hell for them to get rid of their tyrant, they knew there were more on the way, and they simply wanted their kids to be able to send tyrants packing without losing a foot to frostbite at Valley Forge or seeing their friends hanged for treason. "A Republic, madam... if you can keep it."

Reagan said that freedom was never more than one generation from extinction. My children are from Russia and their biological parents and grandparents lived in slavery to a collective that controlled their words, their lives, their careers, their actions and their thoughts. Despite the soft Siren songs of detente telling us then that the Soviets would leave us alone if we left them alone, the historical record is now crystal clear that they were intent on bringing us under their sway with the rest of the world. With Reagan we fought them. We won, they lost. Good.

Now the man across the street and the people with which he has packed the Executive Office of the President of the United States has more in common ideologically with the statists we fought in that long, cold war than I ever imagined possible. I believe that I must make my decision with my tiny share of the House across the street in a few months with the same care as if the entire outcome depends on me.

I pledge to myself, to the staff at Lafayette, to you my reader, and to the One worshipped in the yellow church that I will not vote for anyone for that office that I am not sure is able and willing to fight to dismantle the corrupt statism that has gathered to shake the foundations and blow at the spires of our Republic. The right words are not enough. I must see a record of that person taking painful decisions for the Republic and sticking with them before I will believe them capable of doing so. The 'ability' to 'win' means nothing to me if victory leaves my beloved America sliding into this abyss through cowardice and half measures. I pray to the God of the yellow church that He is looking across the street and in His great kindness he will give us a President worthy of our founders and a people worthy of such a President. And though the decision is His, I hope it is Sarah Palin and rededicate myself to do my part to make that happen,

I leave behind Lafayette and the really exceptional people who will be on their feet all day before they drive home in a hurricane to pay for the Imperial Spectacle unfolding across the street. I'm an imposter but I tip like I'm not because that's what they taught me in my own church that I will be in tomorrow while my President devotes himself to whatever he finds more sacred.

I climb into a cab with 'In the name of God the compassionate, the merciful' on the window and the city's most gracious cabby who happens to be Muslim soon stops in the middle of the street, opens his wallet, and gives something to a guy holding a sign saying 'please help a man who lost all.' This is not a man who needs to be forced to be charitable by the Divine Emperor.

We drive past the Washington Monument and I search the top for the crack that opened in it on Tuesday and wonder if ruins all start that way. We drive past the Holocaust memorial draped with banners saying "State of Deception: the Power of Nazi Propaganda" and it feels less far away than it once did. We drive past the actual building where the actual money is printed by the Treasury as "Quantitative Easing" invests leaders who think I'm too stupid to know what it means with dangerous levels of power at the expense of my children.

I arrive at Reagan and wish his name was on plaques at Mount Rushmore and not on this airport where I feel more like a Soviet than anywhere. I search the storefronts for someone who seems to be being nice to the people around them and I find her and tell her that I have a problem that I need her help with. I tell her that my country is so sure that I might be a terrorist that the nice bottle of wine I was given last night is about to be seized by the Government, and I would rather her have it instead. I buy the Glenn Beck book Original Argument because Joshua Charles' preface says that he thinks Providence led to it being in my hands.

One unreasonable search and seizure later (the wine counts), I'm flying over the hurricane on the way back home - to the place where we impostors go when we leave the linen tablecloths of DC. Back to where I struggle every day to run a business to pay for the Imperial Spectacle while Obama and his oligarchy spend my children's inheritance to call me a racist, selfish, wealthy, exploitative, a corporatist, a terrorist, a hostage taker, and anti-American. While they accuse me of trying to bring down the economy and return to the days of Jim Crowe. I pay them to lay the groundwork to make lots of other people compliant when they some day soon come after people like me. I'm really a good man and I'm so tired of people in my government lying about me.

My President and his wife who may not be proud of her country are also in the air over this same hurricane in separate planes, having had their ten day vacation on a 28 acre Imperial Villa on Martha's Vineyard cut short by the rain that would keep their kids out of the pool. Apparently the storm that is devouring my childrens' entire future wasn't important enough for him to cut his latest vacation short, but I should understand that his kids are important people and mine are there to work to enable his to live like princesses. I would never do that to another family, much less a nation.

Time to write the eviction notice I suppose... I will cast my next vote for President of the United States as if the whole outcome depends on me. I will vote for Sarah Palin.

Lafayette Imposter

With you Lafayette...  Hand me the fry basket.

I hate to say it, but Spratt and Wingate have a point about Republican voters

Please don't get me wrong here:  I'm living in SC-2 and planning to spend part of my pre-election efforts making sure that the John Spratt from adjoining SC-5 that voted to hand the Republic over in the health care bill will cease pretending that he represents the people this November.

What Wingate has pointed out, and Spratt has tacitly agreed with, in his outrageous statement that Osama Bin Laden could garner 38% of the vote in district 5, does provide us the opportunity to gain some political points by pointing to an incredible political arrogance and contempt for the electorate.

But as useful as paper dolls of our opponents can be in moving the poll numbers, there's something else we should be getting out of this episode.  And that is a frightening look into the mirror.  There is a reason why establishment Republicans have been able to run right and govern left all of these years.  Wingate's statement was over the top, but here's a statement that's not, and it's just as scary to those of us that are trying to save this Republic:

SC-5 Republican voters, and Republican voters in general, have reliably delivered their whole vote over to whomever the apparatus nominates, and left that nomination up to someone else.

I attended the first Republican National Committee meeting in DC after the defeat of 2008, and was particularly drawn to the conversations going on about what it meant for the Republicans.  I had two separate conversations with active insiders, and both used precisely the same analogy for the situation:

There are two ships, one Republican, one Democrat.  When one begins to sink, as in 2008, everyone will swim to the other.  Eventually, they said, the Democrats would sink, and the voting population would come back to the Republicans.  Just wait around a while, they said, and all would be well.

The second time I heard this analogy I felt compelled to point out that if both ships are sinking, then eventually everyone drowns.

I'm not sure that sank in, because Michael Steele was chosen as the 'safe' nominee able to appeal to the center rather than the reformer options that could have begun detoxing the party off its long bender of Progressivism to provide the drowning people the RNC folks so lovingly spoke of with a novel option:  a ship that isn't sinking.

Would Republicans vote for Osama?  Of course not.  Would they vote for soft progressives 'that can win' to try to win back Democrat-leaning districts like SC-5 just because there are R's next to their names?  Absolutely.  It's done all the time.

If Wingate is saying that Republicans have historically been a captive voting block willing to vote for the least of two evils, he is correct, even if he has a mouth full of shoe leather.

Only our actions in the primaries and in November can begin to change that reality, and make no mistake, we are just getting started.

The First Ever Event at the Kennedy Center: A Christian Mass

Glenn Beck was told recently that he would not be allowed to have prayer as a part of his event at the federally funded Kennedy Center.

It's strange to find out that prayer is against the rules there considering that the first ever event was a Christian Mass for President Kennedy.  The program (below) includes an explicit invitation for the audience to act as the congregation.

 

Coke Monkeys and Congress

Hey, those folks at Wake Forest are simply trying to understand how primates behave when they are addicted to destructive behavior that stimulates their pleasure centers.  I say let them keep the money but send them to Washington to study Congress instead.  

A Stark Answer to a Stark Question: The Feds can do Anything They Want

The best thing about having a confident ruling class is that their intentions are clear.  It means they have little fear of anyone getting in their way, but they telegraph their punches.  For years, we had to read between the lines and look at the actions of Congress to see what they were up to.

Now the people are asking the questions in stark terms and getting even starker answers from the ruling elite like Stark. 

Do the limitations of the constitution keep the Federal Government from telling us how to live our lives in any way?  According to Stark, no, not really.  And he is deeply contemptuous of anyone who thinks otherwise.  

When the other guy takes off his gloves, you better do likewise.