In Carcassonne Frenchmen attack and attempt
to enlist me in their national health plan.
Noooooo! Not Fraaaaaance! Anything but that!
Rick Moran, (my favorite conservative blogger, and a guy actually afflicted by integrity, poor guy,) points to the deepest, darkest fear of all right-thinking conservatives:
In short, conservatives worst nightmare would be upon us; an ultra liberal president who can do anything he wants. And judging by what we know of Obama, he will attempt to remake America in the image of a European social democracy.
You know what we're talking about here. We all know what we're talking about here. We're talking . . . France. France!
That's right folks, Barack Hussein Josef Mahmoud Leon Adolf Vladimir Abbie Mikhail* Osama Obama, the world's most dangerous naif/corrupt pol/madrassa student/fuhrer/newbie/cult leader/Muslim elitist/Trotskyite imam/Nazi community organizer/Harvard Black Panther, a man who will eat arugala in the White House, a man married to an angry, angry black woman, with two angry, angry black daughters, and for all we know an angry, angry black Irish setter, the treasonous Irish/black/Indonesian/black/Hawaiian bastard, is conspiring to turn the US of A into . . . gasp . . . France.
I have to tell you, I was very recently in France. And I was lucky to escape with my life. Between the oysters, the crusty bread and the wine, I came very close to losing it. Folks, it was Mad Max up there. Two men enter, one man leaves. (Or one man, one woman and two kids enter and all leave.) France: Beyond Thunderdome. With profiteroles.
Croissantalypse now! Gauloiseaggeddon! Les Fin Temps! The number of the beast is not 666, it's 33.**
If this man . . . dare we call him a man, or is he truly the Anti-Christ and also the Anti-Moses and maybe even the Anti-Bernanke . . . has his way with us will we ever truly be the United States of America again? Once he unleashes his savage desires upon us, takes us fully and makes us his, oh my, ah do believe ah feel faint. Once we go black, my fellow Americans, will we ever go back?
I drove into France in an American car, by God. And by "American car," I mean a good old Toyota RAV 4. And I had me a North Carolina license plate on that sucker, but I didn't care who knew I was an American, I'm proud to be an American 'cause at least I know I'm free. Not like the enslaved Frenchmen who shuffle to and from their jobs as snotty waiters, wearing chains. (Which may explain the slow service in sidewalk cafes.)
And drivin' 'round Fuh-rance, ya know what I found? Excellent highways with high tolls. I mean, good lord, these were some beautiful highways. Freakin' perfect. And why? Because we saved their asses in World War 2, that's why.
All that we hold dear -- a wide array of salad dressings, the right to be uninsured, right turn on red -- is in jeopardy now as we face a future with a president who is either a 60's radical, or a member of Al Qaeda, but is sure as hell a black dude.
And probably French to boot.
*Bakunin, not Baryshnikov, Jesus, people, keep up. Mikhail Bakunin Russian anarchist.
** The telephone country code for France. Okay, obscure, I admit it.