About a year ago, the big news hysteria du jour was that North Korea had nuclear warheads that could reach Washington, D.C. Bonus? When the NoKo’s boasted, “reach,” they meant the rockets could actually fly through the air as opposed to pilots in World War I leather flying caps paddling the bombs over in canoes, like the old days.
Cripes. I’m becoming so tres-tres militia. Know what my reaction was?
Alas, ordnance rarely lands atop those who truly deserve it. If a Kim Jong Un booster managed to beat the Vegas meta-trillion-to-one odds, it would probably be on the one of many days when all the useless economy-sucking harrumphing jackasses would be out of town, showering with interns and/or attending satanic rituals. The poor folk who would get nuked would be the working Joes and Janes who do Life’s Real Work.
Like changing oil, cutting hair, playing the banjo, making the produce section look spiffy or the dear New England Patriots, who were just visiting, doing charity work at hospitals and orphanages.
The part about banjo players being useful?
In 1972, we had one of America’s biggest political scandals. Watergate was front-page news. This was during Nixonian climes when GOP operatives were caught breaking into the Watergate Hotel in D.C. to spy on the Democratic Party’s headquarters. They might as well have busted into the offices of the cast of “The Partridge Family” because the GOP’s opponent that year was the inept surrender monkey, George McGovern. If Cuba had been a state, even Cuba wouldn’t have voted McGovern. Georgie got like 11 votes that election (all from the cast of “The Partridge Family”).
The Watergate Scandal eventually toppled President Richard M. Nixon. In 1974, the most powerful man in the world resigned in disgrace. Sixty-nine cronies were indicted, 48 convicted.
That adds up to 117.
I may have been the only person (except for the burglars, Nixon and his secretary Rosemary Woods) who so early-on suspected Nixon. At first, EVERYONE thought the operation was the brainchild of rogue Republican operatives. I confessed my UFO/Nixon Theory to a dear friend and mentor, Dr. Alduino A. Adelini, at College of the Canyons then. Nixon wasn’t a bad chief executive, certainly 247.8 times better than the inept and lazy Barack Obama. Alas, Richard Milhouse was nuts, paranoid and a control freak. I noted to Dr. A that no — NUH-OOOOooooooo — Nixon underling would be suicidal enough to pull such an epic fraternity prank without Tricky Dick’s at least silent consent. Why?
Nixon’d kill you.
Or at least go berserk and spray spittle.
Dr. Adelini laughed at me. Al pointed out 11,014 reasons why my theory was daft. All were good points. Why WOULD Nixon, favored to win re-election by more people than there were in America at the time, risk such a scandal?
When it broke that Nixon WAS behind Watergate, well. I still carry that memory so crystal clear of a laughing Dr. Adelini walking up to me, waving that index finger and being gentleman enough to say I had scooped a nation by two years.
Nixon and his half-a-hundred conspirators paid the price. Good. Seems fair. They deserved it.
It’s 50 years later. I’ve another ooch. This time, I’m not scooping anybody.
We’re in the wee early days of another, epic, galaxy-ending political scandal.
It’s already being called: Obamagate.
Obamagate will be Watergate on steroids and warp drive. As liberalism is more of a cult than conservatism, there will be wide-eyed denials and werewolfian antics, drama befitting the Death Scene from “Camille.”
The opera. Not Andy Jauregui’s fetching granddaughter.
Like thick, lazy methane erupting from a Democrat basting in a bathtub, bubbles will surface. Names like Obama, Bill, his evil wife Hillary, Gropey Dopey Joe and a Santa’s lengthy list of naughty children at the Zeus-level echelons of Washington bureaucracy are already floating toward the ionosphere, popping before reaching heaven and leaving a Sasquatchian stench. These greasy people tried to overthrow the government.
Treason is the rarest of crimes. That’s why it can come with the death penalty.
My suspicion? After the 2016 election, many, many Democrats have been involved in this ongoing kabuki theater childish nonsense of impeachment and Russian thises and thats.
It’s all been a smoke screen.
Fearing they’d be unmasked for their horrific acts, did they desperately need to divert our attention from the Democrats’ — REAL, ACTUAL, SERIOUS, HEAD-LOPPING — crimes?
We are learning the truth.
For this stench of Obamagate, let the punishments — if any — fit the crimes.
Me? I’m part Cowboy zen, part Old Testament. Not a good combination.
I wouldn’t mind seeing everyone involved in this disgusting, loathsome betrayal lined up on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, heinies facing the few news outlets covering the historic event. I’d like to see the 10, the 63, the 2,879 of the convicted bent over. As the Blue Angels fly in formation overhead, the nation’s rodeo clowns can assist with the insertion of white-hot branding irons into where the moon never shines — cold ends in first.
So we can watch them burn their hands as they try to pull out the branding irons.
THEN — we can talk guillotines…
John Boston is NOT a Norse god with a thirst for revenge but rather, a local writer. With many writing awards.