As blizzards blow across the mid-Atlantic region and toward the eastern seaboard today, (near white-out in D.C. – Obama’s climate Christmas card?) frantic Christmas shoppers across America are checking their lists… twice. If you’re stumped on what to give this year, Dan Kennedy (Townhall.com) offers a few suggestions:
For every American, a Nobel Peace Prize. Why not? No accomplishment required. All you need do is think or talk about peace. Heck, just wearing a T-shirt with a peace sign on it might do. Or owning a copy of a Jane Fonda movie. The award clearly has no legitimacy. But as a stocking stuffer, it is amusing. I believe you can get them at Spencer Gifts, and they’re cheaper by the dozen.
For my fellow small business owners, all those tax cuts the Great and Powerful Ozbama keeps saying he spent one-third of the stimulus money giving us, but we can’t seem to find.
For the 90.4 percent of all American homeowners who pay their mortgages on time and all those who’ve diligently paid their mortgages off, a lump of coal, and a slap in the face. It’s all those in foreclosure that Little Timmy Geithner calls “responsible homeowners” as he pressures banks – including those subsidized with your tax dollars – to re-write and discount their mortgages and erase interest and penalties, and hands out government cash to the delinquent borrowers as well. Now weren’t you a silly goose to pay full price?
For President Obama, some instructional literature: A transcript of a Jay Leno monologue in which the comic demonstrated his superior grasp of Economics 101 by suggesting that Obama’s insistence that the government must spend us out of the recession is as silly as a drunkard trying to drink his way free of alcoholism. Maybe Larry Summers should be replaced with Leno. Another nice gift we might send: a framed photo of former President Carter, in the White House, huddled in his sweater, telling Americans to turn down their thermostats and sacrifice for the greater good. Maybe a gold-plated tire gauge, too.
For Charlie Rangel, a copy of Quicken, a gift certificate for H.R. Block, and a prescription for memory pills. Forgetting where your keys are, well, we all do that – but misplacing a half million dollars? And forgetting about property you own on a tropical island?
For federal government employees earning, on average, 30 percent more than private sector counterparts in the same jobs, according to USA Today, an immediate 25 percent pay cut. (Instead of interfering with compensation paid by private businesses, how ’bout pointing that pay czar at the government’s gigantic payroll? The government is broke. When a business is in dire straits, it cuts pay and cuts staff. Time for Uncle Sammy to do the same. (Kudos to USA TODAY for the analysis, by the way. Media doing its job seems as rare as sightings of flying reindeer. But ’tis the season.)
For Al Gore, a cell adjacent to Bernie Madoff’s, so the two biggest con artists of our time can enjoy each other’s company and Mr. Gore’s enormous carbon footprint can actually be reduced.
A few gift suggetions of my own:
For Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac – drunk with taxpayers’ money and demanding $400 billion MORE of our money (that’s $800 billion - nearly a TRILLION dollars) to be given to them before year’s end – two chilled bottles of vintage ABSOLUTely NO MORE MONEY.
For Harry Reid, a new pair of tasseled marching boots… to wear as he leads the progressive parade off stage.
For President Obama, two books: A leatherbound, guilt gilt-edged volume bulging with all the promises he’s made to be honest and transparent with U.S. citizens, along with a copy of How to Stop Lying in 30 Days: Self Help for Liars and Swindlers.
For American patriots, brand new 50-inch swath, made-in-America, push brooms… to sweep away the Grinches in Washington.
Our Sixth Day of Christmas hearkens back to a Christmas classic and beloved childhood favorite, Dr. Seuss’s How the Grinch Stole Christmas.
Here’s himself – the green, gutsy, scheming Grinch:
He who has not Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree. ~ Roy L. Smith