Vulcan Mind Melds In a Time of Cholera

So this afternoon my brother Tom and I are driving home up The Five from San Diego. We're in the long stretch from Oceanside up to Beach Cities that runs through the fringes of the Pendelton Marine Base.

Tom's a retired elementary school teacher. As such he's seen into the black heart of what is called the "California Teachers Union" and its members a few too many times for his own good. He's worked for decades right next to all the bizarre manifestations of dedicated econuts, experimental educational consultants, and other strange species of moonbats that suck a check out of the state for confusing our young on a monthly basis. A lesser man might have been subsumed by the tidalwaves of BS that wash through the California school system and build up in the shallows, but our father taught us to have independent minds above all.

In addition, Tom's an unreconstructed Jacksonian with a lot of friends in the Highway Patrol, a big Harley in his garage, and a regular gig singing at his

church. In CTU terms, he doesn't quite fit in. What's more he's not shy about sharing his views.

And we get to talking about the wall-to-wall Kerry signs cropping up on lawns everywhere,like dubious mushrooms, in the deulsional state of California. I don't know how we got to it, but he starts telling me about this reedy little guy who also teaches shool up in Tom's town. The guy's your standard issue local eco-loon. Probably uses his toilet paper twice to save the pulp farms of Canada. It seems one day he showed up driving, to Tom's amazement, an SUV. Strange because, as Tom notes, "This is the kind of guy who would want you to hold your urine if you're thrown overboard 100 miles off shore in the Pacific. Just because fish piss in it doesn't mean we should."

When Tom asked him about this, the man referred to the vehicle as an "Osama-mobile," explaining breathlessly that people who have them support terrorists because the car uses twice as much gas as this guy's holy Toyota. Of course, because he had to "carry a lot of stuff", that morality didn't stop this fellow from scrounging the SUV off a "friend" who'd also had to endure his ecoblather.

Tom remarked to him that since he drove a Harley that used much less gas than the guy's Toyota, Harley riders were fighting terrorism much more effectively than Toyota owners. The guy grumbled and then drove off in the SUV.

"And what do you think he was hauling in that SUV?" Tom asked.

"No."

"Yes! Hundreds of Kerry lawn signs."

"Yup," I said, "that's the kind of American that would sit on his butt high up in your Sierra town and, looking across the valley, see the large mushroom cloud that incinerated San Francisco...."

"And say," my brother continued without missing a beat, "look what we Americans have done to ourselves! And we deserved it!"

It's later now and Tom's asleep. I'm still awake here at midnight. I click up LILEKS (James) The Bleat and I read, regarding the ever-bolder quisling Bill Maher:

"It's not the dissent. It's the thin, meretricious, self-satisfied quality of the dissent. This is like Tom Selleck giving an interview and saying, "Well, Americans are too stupid to see Clinton for what he is, and they can't find Bosnia on a map, and the ones who can are all gay atheists, you know." He'd be held up as a parochial idiot, but Maher's drivel resonates, because he is vibrating on the moonbat frequency. He's one step removed from the people who would see a mushroom cloud over Manhattan and blame it on Abu Ghraib. "

It's good to have some company late at night at times like these. Two minds with but a single thought. Multiply them by the tens of millions. They might just be enough.

Posted by Vanderleun at October 24, 2004 11:42 PM