Posted on 09/18/2005 2:29:24 PM PDT by doug from upland
A Liberal's Limousine Culture War/A.J. DiCintio June 4-5, 2005 - “Liberals: This affluent group...make up 17% of [the] general public and 19% of registered voters.” - The Pew Research Center, Beyond Red vs. Blue, May 10, 2005.
Among the 17% of the public who identify themselves as “Liberals,” surely you can recognize the sub-group called “Limousine Liberals,” those Liberals whose children hop a limo to a private school while mom and dad instruct their driver to drop them off at the Capitol, where they will testify against every kind of “faith based” initiative designed to help children trapped in failing schools and dangerous neighborhoods. But can you identify a Liberal’s Limousine? You can’t? Then read on to experience for yourself that fabulous chariot of the Liberal gods, the PC 400 Limousine for Liberals.
Sliding into the 400, you sink into seats redolent of the rich, unmistakable aroma of the world’s finest leather. But as your hand caresses a smooth, expertly stitched seam, it comes upon a tag proclaiming in French (every Liberal’s favorite language) “imitation du cuir.” Lucky for you that the seats are luxuriously comfortable, for you sit quite a time contemplating what that lie reveals about the Liberal psyche. Like Frost’s traveler, however, you have “promises to keep;” and you leave the rest of your reverie for another day.
In an instant your eyes fall upon a most curious compass. Thoroughly confused at first, you soon deduce that this perverse device works upon the premise that Washington, DC, is the Center and Measure of All Things. Thus, a reading of “NW” means “north of Washington.” “NWW” means “northwest of Washington,” and so on. However stunned you are by this useless and dangerous compass, you realize that it is a necessary appurtenance to the PC 400; for you recall that to Liberals, Washington represents the iron rock constant which ought to guide the nation’s every move with its invisible waves of Goodness, Truth, Efficiency, and Frugality.
Next, you notice a high-tech “Environmental Information Display.” You select “Vehicle Fuel Efficiency” to hear a solemn voice intone, “This limo averages 100 miles per gallon.” You select “Residence” to be astounded by “The total annual energy consumed by your mansion and three vacation homes is provided by a single AAA battery.” Next, “Travel” announces, “Your round trip jet to Paris to attend a showing of this year’s summer fashions added a mere ounce of carbon dioxide to earth’s atmosphere.”
A touch on “Conservation” produces, “Congratulations, your generous contribution to “Kill the Mills” helped defeat a proposal to build a noise polluting, aesthetically repulsive marine windmill farm one mile off the beachfront of your Nantucket summer home.”
Finally, you select “Library” to be regaled by passages from West Wallows in Energy Waste While Third World Weeps, a book which attacks the energy policy of the current administration while describing the “enormous economic development” achieved in poor nations during the Nineties “without drilling one new well or building one new refinery or power plant.” You note that this work of political and scientific fiction is authored by a certain wooden Vice-President with a Foreword, plenty of Middle Words, and an Afterward by his ventriloquist President, renown for his ability to lie simultaneously from both sides of his mouth without moving his lips, a talent which would make him unique among all humans were it not for the existence of his wife.
Although less than a quarter hour has passed since you entered the 400, you feel so luxuriously ensconced in its seats of “imitation du cuir” that you fear you may nod off into Liberal Dream Land. Wishing at all costs to avoid that nightmare, you exit the vehicle to inspect the trunk.
As soon as you lift the lid, your eyes fall upon cargo deemed “essential” for Liberals, especially politician Liberals. On one side rests spanking new, still-in-the-box hunting gear; a cloth coat, never worn; shining cowboy boots that have seen neither sun, rain, nor snow; a hard hat, pristine in its plastic wrap; an army helmet, still in its toy store bag; and a Bible in mint condition.
On the other side of the trunk sits a store of books whose titles include Cambodia, Rwanda, and the International Community: The Glory of Doing Nothing; Foreign Policy in the Clinton Years: The Glory of Doing Nothing; Liberals and Social Security: The Glory of Doing Nothing; and Liberal Judicial Activism: The Glory of Doing Everything.
Your inspection complete, you close the trunk and step back, regarding the PC 400 not merely as a vehicle but as an idea, an idea so infused with hypocrisy, arrogance, the love of power, and the worship of political dogma that you recoil from its reactionary smell. Then, heeding pleas from both your mind and your heart, you turn your back on it to walk beside ordinary vehicles in the free, fresh, open air of a street filled with real people, real thought, and real life.
Congratulations on your fine reporting about Arianna. I saw the story on Michelle Malkin's blog.
Thanks. It was a lucky shot. Of course, the hypocritical nitwit had to create the opportunity.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.