As we walked past the White House last night, we heard the melodic tones of the anthem of the left spreading across the lawn to capture our attention on Pennsylvania Avenue. The sounds were so blessed and peaceful that we paused to sway in the warmth of the evening…
…Someone’s laughing, Lord, kum ba ya…
Well, who could be the someone laughing? We don’t know. We have nary a clue about who could be laughing because we don’t even know what this song is about. But if we were pressed to answer that question and we could not get in touch with the silly fools who write this nonsense, we would guess, in no particular order, that the laughers would be:
• Al Qaida
• Muslamic terrorists
• Muslims
• The Chinese leaders
• The Russian leaders
• The Indian leaders
• SEIU, AFT, NEA and lawyers, US and state and local government employees and their fat can union leaders
• Gosh, just about anyone that we compete with; or who is slopping at the trough or who would celebrate with great glee as we self destruct.
Someone’s crying, Lord, kum ba ya…
Who may be crying? Probably about fifty million four hundred thousand and forty eight of the youngsters of America and the unborn of same. They are the first generation of Americans who are being presented with an endless credit card receipt so that their parents and grandparents and great grand parents can live it up; pork it up; wheelchair it up; knee and hip replacement it up; Wal Mart it up; handicap parking place it up; early bird special it up and poke along in the left lane it up. Cripes, you don’t have to be an infant or youth to cry it up. All you have to have is a medium term memory.
But, in case you like lists, with specifics, here we go:
• Liberal media such as PBS, Newsweek, Time, ABC, NBC and CNN (they are gonzo in less than a decade)
• Retirees who are not on a defined benefit pension plan which means most everyone who worked in private competitive businesses which pay the taxes
• Almost anyone with a big student loan
• Almost anyone with a big mortgage loan
• Any minority youth living in any major city
• And majority youth living in any minor city or suburb
Someone’s praying Lord, kum ba ya…
Now this one is kinda fun. People pray for many things. Some people pray for a nice car; others for the demise of an enemy; others for an attractive mate; and some even pray for world peace or at least peace in their valley. We, at The Fundamentals, do not ask the Lord (well, not always) to do that which we mortals can do for ourselves. Instead we pray for things that we can’t do for ourselves; like bring a small shaft of light into the lives of the silly people who claim to be leaders. Well, that’s not entirely true, either. Sometimes we pray for them to coincidentally just happen to occupy the same geographical spot at the same time that the Hells Angels have chosen for this year’s fun outing. Or, if the logistics of that coincidence are too challenging for the Lord of this song, perhaps He/She could just arrange for them all to be in the vicinity of the next extraterrestrial arrival of cosmic rubble accumulation known as an asteroid. But, alas, those prayers don’t seem to garner the level of attention and result that we pray for. Oh, what’s a soul to do? Does this mean that we are supposed to deal with these situations ourselves? Does this mean that we can’t just pray for a good ending? Why can’t our prayers be answered when we encourage enlightenment on others?
Someone’s singing Lord, kum ba ya…
Here’s who singing (or at least whistling past the graveyard):
1. AFT
2. NEA
3. SEIU
4. AFL-CIO
5. All lawyers
6. Trial Lawyers particularly
7. Talk radio and talk TV silly people
8. The party out of power (POOP) and the Party in Power (PIP)
Someone's spending, Lord, kum ba ya
Yeah, baby. Spend, baby spend.
Someone's borrowing, Lord, kum ba ya
Borrow, baby borrow
Someone's printing, Lord, kum ba ya
Print those greenbacks, baby. Get 'em out there fast.
Oh Lord I need you…
Now this answer is: All of Us. But, tonight, it’s really many of the folks listed above, only they just haven't quite grasped what is coming their way.
Kumbayah, baby.
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