When confronted with particularly pesky, argumentative folk, my dear grandmother often referred to them as “even tempered — mad all the time.” Well, Grandmother, meet Jed Babbin. A recovering lawyer and by his own admission, “talking warhead” on the nation’s cable-waves, Jed has been unrelenting and unrelentingly grumpy ever since the Libs took over the debate and the facts got dropped in the round file about two years ago. (I know, Mrs. Babbin, he was already grumpy even before that, but I’m being a nice guy here.)
What has the editor’s GI tract in such a roil at all times is worthy of note, and I take this moment to encourage just a tincture more fury from the rest of the world’s conservatives.
If you can look at the remarkable batch of gassy blather that passes for reportage on the war effort emitting from the networks and not get steamed, you are simply not paying attention. If you can watch Cutie Katie effervescing orgasmic over Big Al the Environment’s Pal and his most recent fairytale foray into the magic kingdom of cinema and not run screaming out of the TV room, your truth gene is broken. And if, having gagged down another magnum dose of perversion as the media huff and puff over the “right” of men to marry each other you fail to retch, you have forgotten most of what your mother taught you. Point is, Jed is right; what these idiots have done to pervert the truth, to conceal reality and feed people an endless line of barnyard fertilizer should keep a guy’s dander up.
Our President is a fine man, courageous and committed to our protection, but he has been poorly served by a gaggle of advisers and associates who have sent him wandering in the wilderness of indecision and abandoned him to the delusion of diplomacy. When Jed’s face goes purple, you can make book it’s because either some lost ball has encouraged us to sit down at the table with a pack of mad dogs who, in their own words, are committed to murdering us in our beds or another traitorous Democrat has offered aid and comfort to the enemy by declaring our defeat on the floor of the Senate.
Again I say, what’s it take to make you mad and to keep you that way? The way conservatives seem to be able to avoid their daily confrontation with the truth would leave Ronald Reagan scratching his head in disbelief, because no matter how bad things get and how much crap the Left and their minions in the media shovel our way, the lots of folks including many on the Right seem to either deny it or just miss it altogether. Truth is, if you are not ticked off, you simply are not paying attention, like my man Jed.
The days and weeks following the horror that was 9/11 provide proof beyond debate. There were buildings aflame and collapsing on thousands of innocents, edifices that represent the very backbone of the Republic black and scarred, smoking endlessly. And there was that one image I can never erase from my memory — a young woman plunging to her death a hundred stories below the inferno that drove her into the air, her long hair streaming up as though reaching back against the end — all should have been enough to burn the truth and its accompanying righteous rage into the soul of America. But it was not. In a matter of months those horrific (but crucially important) visions of death and destruction had slipped from the airwaves, and the rhetoric dribbling from the lips of the Left began to take on a sort of simpering tone of conciliation. Please. Indeed we forgot.
That is what cannot be permitted, above all else. The United States of America simply cannot forget, no matter how attractive the invitation to do so by those who would anesthetize us into such perfidy. Those who now defend us and offer their sacrifice in our stead remain aware, focused, intent. To do otherwise is to die. But we must do no less, refusing to take our collective eye off the ball that is an enemy who will not go away and whose appetite for our blood is voracious beyond our capacity to comprehend. It may sound crazy but we have a duty to stay mad, not just irritated or grumpified, but righteously outraged right to the soles of our shoes. The King James Version of the Good Book had a word for it, used to describe the ire of kings when they found themselves betrayed. They were wroth. Now that’s more like it. Whatever your iteration, take your lead from Jed, because if you’re not wroth, you’re not paying attention.
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