A LETTER FROM THE REAL WORLD TO PRESIDENT BUSH
It was a bad day for the keep-Costa Mesa-low crowd on Tuesday.
Once again, the three person majority of Mayor Mansoor, Mayor Pro-Tem Bever, and Councilwoman Leece showed their unity and desire to make Costa Mesa the great city it can be as they voted to send a letter to President Bush asking him to get off his duff and protect our borders.
Protecting our borders and our citizens are the sorts of things that presidents usually do, you see. It's expected by the hoi polloi. We pay our taxes to the government and the government protects us. Just as we put fences around our homes to protect ourselves and our property, we put borders around our extended home--our nation--to protect us and our property. Call it a tit for tat arrangement. Works pretty good when we have a president who understands his duty to citizens.
Unfortunately, President Bush has other ideas. He's never seen a U.S. border that he likes and he also apparently figures the whole planet is just ripe to be Mayberryized with his just right porridge world view. Merge the whole planet, level the playing field, push everyone to the center. Non-conformists need not apply.
Now, how did that plain speaking, tongue twisted, word mangling cowpoke George W. Bush, get his twig bent so far out of shape that he's not doing his job?
Well, for starters, Master George--he of the silver spoon birth--don't you know, spent his formative years in a prestigious Prep school in Massachusetts instead of living in a loving home with a mother and father. Holy Charles Dickens! An ersatz orphanage for poor little rich kids whose parents are too busy or too disinterested to parent. That old reptilian brain seems to tell some folks to lay the egg and crawl away.
So, young George, 'paked his hoss in Havad Square," as we say in Boston. The Texas ranch came later, dude. The real world of the Lone Star State got into his accent but not into his head--that was apparently already closed up.
Today, as a result of Bush's failings, the populace is in a foul mood. His ratings are lower than Texas Longhorn cow pies. So, how is it that George can keep doing whatever he wants?
Rats.
Yup, rats. About the only thing keeping enraged citizens from running Bush out of town (other than the reality of our political system) is the fact that he's slapping all of them on one cheek while kissing them on the other. America has become a big Skinner box with most of the rats being played via approach-avoidance stuff.
One large group of rats is yelling "We hate the war, let's run Bush out of town. Then, before they can light the torches and pick up the pitchforks, they realize that Bush is buttering their bread with his open borders plans which they like.
Damn bunch of gelding rats can't decide whether to smack him because of the war or kiss him because of his open borders schemes.
Meanwhile, another large group is doing just the reverse. "We love the war, Hooray...George! Ah, but we hate the open borders crap, Boo...George!" Like robots in a cheap science fiction movie they are unable to do anything but stand there with their heads up their exhaust pipes saying "Will not compute, will not compute...."
The two groups thus cancel each other out and Bush is allowed to continue both his war and his open borders schemes like an inner city pimp who keeps his girls in line by alternatively beating and taking care of them. We're caught up in an abusive relationship and we can't get out. There's no citizens' domestic abuse shelter where we can go and get our heads straight and develop our self-esteem.
Ah, but dear friends, you are obviously intelligent, discerning and well informed as evidenced by the fact that you're read this far; and you may be saying that there are also those who love both the war and open borders and others who hate the war and who also hate open borders. And, right you are. However, these folks are out on the sparsely populated edges of the Bell Curve and can pretty much be ignored. They're the porridge in the too hot bowl and the too cold bowl and George goes for the just right bowl where most of the porridge can be found.
And, speaking of Bell Curves and porridge; this brings us to Newport Beach resident Joe Bell. Bell lives under the flight path of John Wayne Airport and maybe the jet fumes have something to do with his thought processes, or, maybe not. At any rate, Bell has his usual column in the funny pages of the silly Daily Pilot today.
Bell, it may be remembered, is the guy who apparently loves job centers (so long as they're in Costa Mesa and not in his Newport Beach neighborhood). He also seems to be on board with most other liberal views. Oh, the emotion of it all! The guy's columns are a very predictable grocery list of liberalism. You know what Bell's views are before he even writes them. This makes him right at home at the Daily Pilot.
Well, Bell doesn't much like the fact that the City Council in Costa Mesa (where Bell doesn't live, remember) is sending an anti-open borders letter to President Bush. Ho hum. Yawn. "Stop the presses! Bell doesn't like it." Snore. Hell, we could have told you Bell's opinion before Bell put his two fingers to his Smith-Corona and killed another tree with his pedestrian prose that seems to be the product more of a jerking knee than anything that might exist in his cerebral cortex.
Meanwhile, back on the streets of almost coastal Costa Mesa...
As could have been predicted, Councilwomen Foley and Dixon--think two Joe Bells in dresses-- demurred and voted against sending the letter. No surprise, that. "Say, Opie, what could their vote against sending the letter mean? Could they be in favor of continuing to allow Costa Mesa to be overrun by illegal aliens?"
It's always a good day in Costa Mesa when the out of touch libs get upset. It means that the majority on the Council is going in the right direction to improve Costa Mesa.
The letter may not change Bush's mind (such as it is), but good people speak out for what is right and just even if they are ignored.
# # #
Those are our opinions. Thanks for reading them.
