The Adventures of the Bamster and 9 fingered Rahm, #3.

The Snow Queen & The Dragon Lady

haunt his every sleeping and waking moment.

At the regular afternoon meeting, the Bamster and 9 Fingered Rahm fell into a somber mood, things had not been going as well as hoped and the press office was down to feeding the Bamster clips from ever loyal and adoring commentators like Rachel Maddow and Chris (my leg tingles) Matthews. Rahm had yelled at Press Secretary this morning over some very snippy remarks by Jon Stewart on the previous night’s Daily Show. “Find out what got into him, the rat, how come he’s turning on us.” “But Rahm, if the Bamster floats one his off the talking points non sequitur’s, Stewart can’t help himself.” “Yeah, I know it’s his shtik, but I still don’t like him making us look bad. I should have known he’d be trouble ever since that chop about Herself last Fall when he showed the old Miami pentioner looking at Michelle and saying ‘“Vat a touches.”’ She is still pissed about it.”

The Bamster sat forward in his great chair, head in his hands on the Presidential desk, “Rahm, did you hear, the Snow Queen, Sarah Palin herself, she was on Rachel Ray’s show this morning.”

“Don’t worry about it, just two air head broads what can they do?”

“But Rahm, they cooked, they made this Alaskan stuff.”

“Get a grip, man, so Caribou Barbie can make some kind of goyish Lox, big F****ing deal!!” Rahm said in firm voice.

“But the audience applauded like they loved her.” The Bamster was spooked.

“Chill, man, so she can cook . . . she probably can since she has to feed her kids and that big ox of husband of hers. I don’t think many people are going to be eating her favorite Moose Goulash or whatever she makes.” Rahm explained.

“You’re right, I don’t think I’d like to eat a moose. Nobody would like to eat a moose would they?”

“Sure, Canadians might like Moose, but not our voters. It’s not bad, you know, I had some at a great little deli in Montreal one time, smoked moose on rye.”

“But Rahm, she still scares me,” the Bamster looked at him pleading for reassurance. “She is a killer, I’ve seen the pictures. She’s some kind of wild cracker Princess Xena or something.”

“F*** her, shake it off, big guy, be a mensch. Do I got to call the kitchen have them send up Spam Fry Rice or Ahi Poke or some thing?,” Rahm knew that the Hawaiian snacks of his boyhood always perked up the Bamster.

“That would help, it would,” the Bamster raised his head.

“At least Hillary Clinton will not be on Rachel Ray’s show, I don’t think she can boil a f***ing pot of water.” Rahm laughed. Then he realized his mistake. The only person the Bamster hated and feared more Sarah the Snow Queen was his Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton, or as he and Rahm called her, Dragon Lady.

“I have this nightmare, Rahm, it’s horrible. There I am trying to run for reelection and the Republicans and the back stabbing Blue Dog Democrats run a special fusion ticket of Hillary for President and Sarah for VP. I can see them together in a VFW Hall in some awful little town in Pennsylvania drinking’ beer and doing shots with the peasants, talking about guns and all that other blue collar white folks stuff.” The Bamster was beginning to sweat as he recounted his recurring frightful vision.

“Cool it, can’t happen, we got Hillary right where we f***ing want her. She can’t go nowhere. I got my guys keeping my eye on her and her little shlep Blumenthal. She can’t make a bleeping move without us knowing first.” Rahm assured his heroic leader.

“Are you sure?” Bamster pleaded.

“F***ing absolutely certain, them mother f***ing mothers can’t lay a glove on us!” Rahm almost shouted. “We're holding our friends close and our enemies even closer,” Rahm quote the Godfather epic, it always bucked up the Bamster’s spirit.

At this point Press Secretary Gibbs burst in, “Sorry, but you guys got to see this, it’s unbelievable.” On the huge plasma TV we see the tarmac at Anchorage International Airport and through a light snow fall we see Secretary of State Hillary Clinton in a fur coat and hat on a stop over on her return flight from Moscow. Next to her in a bright red parka is a smiling Sarah Palin handing her a slab of smoked salmon in bright foil and red ribbons. Hillary beams, “Why thank you, Sarah, this is so sweet and you know how I love smoked Alaskan salmon.” She gave a little peck on the cheek to Sarah and Todd.

Sarah smiles back, “You bet’cha, I made it my self and my husband Todd, he caught it right here in Alaska.”

“Thank you so much, I really appreciate it.” Hillary purred.

“I’m so glad we had a chance to get together Madam Secretary, you know how I’ve always admired you, one American woman to another.”

As the camera pulled back, a radiant Hillary climbed back up the steps into her sky blue and white Air Force plane, Sarah and Todd waved and Hillary clutched the smoked salmon to her breast and smiled warmly.

Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!

Gibbs and Rahm patted the stricken Bamster on his back and got him to take a drink of water.

Rahm shouted, “The bitches.”

- xxx -

Three kinds of Democrats

Looking across the political spectrum you have Democrats, you have Liberal Democrats and then you have the Moonbats. Regular plain no hyphens Democrats have feet that touch the ground, a strong grip on common sense and usually a sharp if somewhat cynical sense of humor. They usually drive American cars, some even drive pick up trucks. They often talk with a regional accent and even hint at blue collar or country heritage, they don’t blush or feel queasy when they say the Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag or observe common and accepted patriotic rites and gestures. Real Democrats think Republicans are tight wads who begrudge the poor a minimal level of social services but are not hopeless, just inhibited by their party’s terminal stuffiness. Real Democrats love a good fight, in fact feel uncomfortable if things get too lovie dovie, because they know in their hearts the Liberals and Republicans are cunning upper middle class smoothies who are always willing to go bipartisan if it screws the working class.

Liberal Democrats read the New Republic and other slick paper up scale publications Vanity Fair and hip life style and how to magazines, they like you to think they can speak at least one foreign language, dress with a touch of old money style or what they think is old money style combined with a bit of hipster chic and they are never at a loss for fluent cocktail party chat. They never own an American car but they are up on current food fads, food no-no’s and know when certain things are hot and when they are not. While they can always come up with politically correct reasons to look down on blue collar, Southern and rural folks, they are helpless before minority ethnic firebrands and almost always get rolled even when they know better.

A Liberal Democrat will do everything possible to push up Black and Latino college enrollment percentages while at the same time be coldly ruthless in squashing the percentage of Asian heritage students. Only a liberal could tell Asians they have been demoted to White and do so with a straight face. A Liberal Democrat will also ignore bad news, like the very high drop out rate of minority kids who are enrolled without the academic background to keep them enrolled. The single worst moral flaw common to Liberals is their willingness to let good intentions trump good results. The other thing Liberals do is run the word “unconscionable” into the ground. Nobody to their right or left ever uses the word. It is their word and theirs alone.

When push comes to shove in foreign policy Liberals will spot dictators and terrorists one chance to roll them. That is how they demonstrate their diplomatic skills. The next time the bad guys try to roll them, they will bomb the bastards, even send in the Marines. Bill Clinton actually bombed more countries in his eight years than George W. Bush. Liberals will always come up with a “multilateral” strategy that will leave the the heavy lifting to the American Military with token assistance from a small number of nations and the advice of those who are unable to do anything but talk. The deepest and darkest fear of older Liberal Democrats is that somebody will look back and discover the Vietnam War actually was their idea.

What makes me real nervous today is that President Obama has rediscovered and brought us the old liberal dream of government by our “Best and brightest.” He can be forgiven because he was an infant during the Kennedy and Johnson years. That time, the best and brightest fucked up big time and then denied they had anything to do with it. Right now the Harvard and Goldman Sachs alumni in his government seem to be doing the same thing to the American economy and maybe militarily in Afghanistan too. I’ve seen this movie before, it ends in tears.

Now we come to the Moonbats. These are people whose feet don’t touch the ground. Their Burkenstocks, Ugh’s and sandals might, but they don’t. Facts, reality, common sense and rationality have no measurable effect on them, ever. Where real Democrats view Republicans as tight wads and Rotary Club stalwarts while Liberal Democrats look on them as tiresome but energetic “C” students, even if they attended a prestigious college or didn’t sit in the back row snickering, mocking or peppering the good students with catcalls and spitballs. Moonbats see Republicans as criminals at best, by definition both ignorant and stupid, if not demented. In the worst case they view Republicans as a species of hateful and dangerous sub human primates that should be exterminated.

To be fair it should be added that Moonbats consider ordinary Democrats as little better than Republicans. If you doubt this, just try to imagine a Berkeley Moonbat trying to talk with a Teamsters Business Agent. Liberals Democrats are almost the very worst possible thing to Moonbats since they could and did vote for Bill Clinton and then compound it by voting for Hillary. The Moonbats not only want to jail George W. Bush for the Iraq War and not singing Kumbaiya with Osama Bin Lauden, they would put every single so called liberal Democrat that voted for the war in the cell next to him.

The pure and ardent Moonbats fit the bemused description George Orwell wrote in the 1940’s about the far left fringes of Britain’s Labour Party -- they burn with odd enthusiasms, they dress in awkward and often impractical clothes, they advocate a wide range of distinctly minority opinions, they are often eccentric in their dietary preferences and frequently have highly unorthodox religious views. They combine a highly demanding set of ethics on almost everything except sexual behavior with the aggressive moral imperatives and heresy suppressing zeal of a Counter Reformation Dominican Friar freshly arrived in town with a wagonful of seasoned firewood and a list of suspects.

Real Democrats sit down to a steak at Peter Luger’s without the slightest moral scruple. They also gobble up bratwursts at a NFL tailgate party and drink name brand beer without shame. A Liberal Democrat can eat sushi and allowing for a few moral hiccups, a Liberal Democrat could even go so far as to eat veal. Goose liver or Fois Gas, in its common French name, would never ever pass their lips unless Anthony Bourdaine was present and ready to denounce them as philistine idiots if they didn’t eat it. While a few might eat free range organic meat and get away with it, most true Moonbats pose as or claim to be vegans or vegetarians. Many of them go far beyond those two diets. adding to them every sort of marginal food fetish. They attribute many good things to various rare fruits or vegetables, they believe in the near miraculous power of rare and exotic tinctures and extracts, they of course have not a shred of scientific proof for any of this, but Moonbats still passionately believe it anyway, especially if it rooted in the most distant third world folklore. The one trouble with these bean, grain and greens diets is the unfortunate side effect of considerable if not heroic flatulence. In the human gastrointestinal system the typical vegan diet produces enough methane gas to power a small car. Raw grains, organic heirloom beans and Brussels Sprouts as a steady diet could create enough natural methane gas inflate a Goodyear blimp.