Sorry, I’m tired and no time to speak like Arnold (I’m veak and puny), but I have a few things to say.
For a change of pace, let’s take a look at some liberal blogs. At Daily Kos, he has the mentality of that of a four-year-old: “They recalled our governor, let’s recall theirs back.” Tom Tomorrow is scared that Arnold will become president, not caring about any rational argument that naturalized citizens should be able to be president (hateful uber-partisan, anyone?). John Hawkins has a good roundup of the Democratic Underground, who, as always, play their part of the inmates in the Asylum looking out the window and wondering why everyone is so crazy. Calpundit, since he actually lives in California, is much more reserved, but you can see the crazy liberal trying to break out. It’s almost like the Bruce Banner trying to hold back the Hulk. You can hold onto your sanity, Kevin; we’re rooting for you!
Anyway, I have a message for liberals, and I mean the real wackadoo ones. I know they don’t usually read my blog, but someone point them here, as I have a few important points to tell them about the recall election.
First off, conservatives don’t even like Arnold. Like 13% of the voters in California threw their vote away to McClintock. Many believe things would be better for Bush in 2004 with a weak Democrat in California in 2004. The reason so many of us are enjoying this is that it enrages you wackadoos so much that you’re tearing apart your tinfoil hats with your teeth, and that is entertaining.
Secondly, this is an isolated events, nitwits. Misha has a good example of your wacky thinking trying to make some association between this and Bush. Okay, everyone listen to this carefully:
Davis has an approval rating in the low twenties.
That is a very unusual thing, you nuts; don’t you understand that? His own party hated him. Sure this was political opportunism by the Republicans… opportunism of a valid opportunity. If you idiots can find a Republican governor as hated as Davis in a state with a recall law, more power to you. And if Arnold gets that low an approval rating after a while in office (which is hard to imagine, even if he goes grope crazy), go ahead and recall him, but don’t do it as some temper tantrum.
Lastly, there’s some talk from the super wackadoos about the need for revolution or to fight, and this is a point I think all you liberals need to hear again from time to time:
There are more conservative than liberals in America. There always have been, and there always will be. And we have guns and you don’t. If you want a street fight, it will be very short. This is important for you liberals to know, because we conservatives could easily slaughter you all if we wanted, but, instead, out of the kindness of our hearts, we let you live and tolerate your shrill dissent. You guys need to be more thankful of that.
Okay, enough talking to liberals. Here are some links:
The Carnival of the Vanities is up.
Owen hasn’t been paying attention to the news and needs to catch up.
The Indepundit reports on how Arafat had a heart attack. A sniper bullet to the head should clear that up.
We’ve still had some trouble spreading the word about Front Line Voices, and Jay Solo has a good idea to get the word outside of the blogosphere.
BTW, after martial arts today, we all went to a Chinese buffet to welcome back a student who had returned from Iraq. On the placemats they had those things about what animal goes with what year, and I’m a frick’n sheep. Guess what is the year after mine? The year of the monkey. 2003 is a year of the sheep, which makes sense since I’m 24 (gone through the cycle twice), but that also means that next year, 2004, the election year, is a year of the monkey. That doesn’t bode well for the Republicans.
Oh, and Tom Bridge wanted a birthday shout out. What does he think this is? Some children’s show where I do birthday announcements? Geez.
Now go visit all those puny little blogs. Dah!
UPDATE: Bill Whittle, who lives in California, has some commentary on the issue. He needs to send out an e-mail notice every time he updates.
Archive of entries posted on 8th October 2003
New Holiday
In My World: Stabilizing Iraq
“Hey, kids, I’d love to do my imitation again, but it ain’t good for my equipment.”
“Please big American!” the Iraqi kids pleaded.
“Well, alright,” Buck the Marine said. He then dropped his rifle, raised his hands, and shouted, “J’ai une odeur comme le fromage!”
The children all laughed and clapped their hands.
“Pick that rifle back up!” came a stern voice from behind Buck.
He took his rifle and turned around to see Condoleezza Rice. “Hey, you’re that National Security Advisor.”
“Yes, and I’m now in charge of stabilization in Iraq and Afghanistan,” Condi answered, “I’ve decided to take a hands on approach.” She turned to an Iraqi loitering nearby. “What are you doing?”
“Sitting on a barrel.”
“Don’t sit on that barrel!” She looked around. “Sit on that barrel over there.”
“Okay.”
Condi watched carefully as the Iraqi moved his sitting place to the other barrel. “Excellent.”
“Do you really need to micro-manage like that?” Buck asked.
“I will not be questioned!” Condi yelled. She then turned to one of the children. “How old are you?”
“Seven.”
“That’s old enough to make me coffee; get to it! And, as for the rest of you kids, you need to start work on rebuilding that bridge over the river to the east.”
“But we don’t know…”
“I said go build a bridge!” Condi screamed and raised her hand ready to strike. The kids ran away in fear.
“Should I help the kids,” asked the loitering Iraqi.
“I told you to sit on that barrel and you’re going to stay on that barrel!” Condi yelled. She then composed herself and looked to Buck. “I cannot have a stabilized Iraq unless people do as I say unquestioningly. Now, I have a job for you, Buck. I hear there are still some terrorists left here and I need you to deal with them.”
“I will do my best, ma’am.”
“I want them all dead by tomorrow morning. My carefully laid plans need all evil people in Iraq dead by tomorrow.”
“Uh… okay, ma’am… uh… all of them?”
“I think I made that clear!” Condi said curtly. “You’ll have help from the U.N., by the way. I’ve brought with me the award winning U.N. peacekeeper Chomps, the world’s angriest dog.”
Chomps, wearing his blue helmet, came running up to Condi’s side and looking quite angry at everything. “This heat makes him grumpy,” Condi explained.
Chomps started barking at the sun. He stopped after the light stung his eyes too much, but then recovered and barked at the sun again.
“So just to be clear, ma’am, my job is to kill all terrorists in Iraq within twenty-four hours?” Buck asked dubiously.
“By tomorrow morning; you better not take twenty-four hours!” Condi warned.
Buck prepped his rifle. “Yes, ma’am!”
“You’re going to have to kill a lot of terrorists with your teeth,” Buck told Chomps, “because I don’t think I have enough bullets.”
Chomps savagely mangled a patch of sand that angered him somehow.
“Quiet, Chomps,” Buck whispered, “I think I her me some for’ners.”
From a nearby cave, they could hear some voices.
“We must kill the American invaders!” said one man.
“We need to get all American and Jews out of the Middle East,” said another, “Then we can once again be a true Islamic region and go back to just killing each other.”
“That will be great,” answered the first, “but did you just drop a small green pineapple?”
“All them Islamic terrorists is going to be bad for your stomach,” Buck told Chomps, “Why don’t you chase that down with a pork chop.”
He threw the piece of meat to Chomps who ate it greedily.
“Well, I’m out of ammo and my knife needs sharpening,” Buck said, “Hopefully we got all them terrorists ’cause I’m starting to get tired.”
They trekked back to town just as the sun was rising. “Are all the terrorists dead?” was their greeting by Condi when they arrived.
“I think so,” Buck answered, “During the night, we went all around Iraq killing anyone who was too foreign. There was a lot of them, but they’s dead now. Usually kill’n gets me pumped up, but I’m pretty tuckered out about now. So how is the rebuilding?”
“Well, the school, the hospital, and the police station are behind schedule,” Condi admitted, “but my palace is nearly done.” She pointed to a giant palace that everyone was busy at work on. She then spotted something. “What is that? Syrians are getting in here! I thought you killed all the terrorist, Buck!”
“Well, I got all I could find here, but there’s more that keep coming in from Syria.”
“Then you go into Syria and you kill everyone thinking of coming into Iraq,” Condi commanded, “There are some nice Jewish boys in Israel who can probably help you with that.”
“Can’t I get a nap first and then kill all bad people,” Buck asked. Chomps whimpered, him being so tired he barely looked angry.
Condi rolled her eyes. “Fine. Take a quick nap and then invade Syria.”
“Can I stop sitting on this barrel?” asked the Iraqi behind her.
“When I told you to sit on that barrel I had good reason!” Condi shot back. She then looked to the people working on her palace. “More gold inlays!”