Powerless against intellectual puerility
As soon as I saw the election results, I thought of Galadriel's words in Tolkien's great novel. "The world is changed."
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America, I knew, was gone for good. The America of our Founding Fathers: now a vast, emasculated nanny state.
Obama, 332 electoral votes; Romney, twenty-four red ribbons. No need there for a political post-mortem, sifting through exit polls and self-serving punditry. To me, a conservative, the results were shocking. But bracing as well, like cold rain on one's face. They clarified for me the futility, stark and final, of resisting the tide of progressivism, in whose wake I felt as shaken and despondent as the governor of New Jersey after Sandy's devastation.
So it didn't matter that our consulate in Benghazi had been allowed to burn, its staff murdered when their pleas for help went unanswered. High unemployment and a nuclear-armed Iran were not matters of grave concern. Federally funded contraceptives -- those were crucial. What happened to the seven out of 10 Americans who disapproved of Obamacare? The death panel couldn't have gotten its hands on them already? Fiscal discipline? Not if that meant (duh!) spending less. Government debt? Same as a bowl of Cheerios -- lotsa zeros, and, hey, it keeps you going. With such a mindset, the majority voted.
Against such intellectual puerility, I am powerless.
You win. Democrats of the New America: Hail your Enabler-in-Chief. Going over the "fiscal cliff" in January will feel like falling out of bed, a minor jolt compared to the climactic crash that's sure to come. When your dollar is worth two shekels, and your tax rates are as high as this summer's temperatures, call me. Perhaps I can recount to you the way it used to be in the USA, in case your children ask.