This is my first column of the year, and I feel like I’ve been out of the loop, and missing the camaraderie and good cheer of the CO Nation. Still, I’ve made a few ambitious new year’s resolutions this year: I’d like work out three times a week, and write a relevant-yet-hilarious NCAA basketball/dead terrorist joke. We’ll see if I can pull those off.
As the new year started, the Dem leadership was in their accustomed position: at war with reality. And I’m not referring to just the usual leftist struggles with delusions such as “socialism is bound to work this time,” and “America is terrible,” and “Antifa is against fascism,” and “Bruce Jenner is a nice lady named Caitlin.”
No, I’m referring to the story that dominated the hopes and dreams of Dems for the last half of last year: when the American public saw the mountain of evidence that Trump was literally Hitler (only worse), they would storm Trump Tower with torches and pitchforks. Instead, after a months-long sham impeachment investigation that got worse reviews than the movie “Cats,” the Dems rushed through a sham-impeachment vote, because it was super-urgent that Trump be impeached and tried before he could do any more damage to national security.
Then Nancy Pelosi tucked the signed articles of impeachment into her burial wrappings and shuffled back into her pyramid, where she hibernated through the end of the year in a sarcophagus lined with pictograms of a bad orange man trampling the world, and other fantastic scenes so outlandish that only a mummified Marxist could believe them.
Meanwhile, back among the living, two brilliant men were planning vicious attacks that would devastate some evildoers. One of them was the aforementioned orange man, who was planning “Operation So-Long, Soleimani.”
The other was Ricky Gervais.
I don’t know which of their attacks I enjoyed more, so even though they are both pretty much old news now, I feel I have to take a few moments to savor both of them.
First, though, I have a lesson for my leftist friends, in the form of a role model that you would all richly benefit from emulating. That role model, you should have guessed, is me.
Let me explain.
Ricky Gervais is a leftist, and an atheist, and he’s said very condescending and insulting things about Christians. Donald Trump is an often-bloviating, undisciplined goofball whose tweets and public statements – when they’re not making me laugh and cheer – sometimes make me wince and cringe.
Ricky Gervais is also pretty stinking funny, and Donald Trump is three years into what is shaping up – policy-wise – as one of the best presidencies of my lifetime.
The reason that I should be your role model is that I recognize the flaws in both men, and yet am very happy to watch both Gervais and Trump, because 1. I know that life is too short to be continually upset by those who disagree with me, and 2. I learn from my mistakes.
I’m afraid that too many lefties do neither.
Take Gervais, and his schaudenfreude-tastic carpet bombing of the pompous Hollywood community at the Golden Globes.
Outside of the US Congress, you’d be hard pressed to find a more narcissistic, virtue-signaling, clueless collection of morally blind, professional useless people than the acting community. So when Gervais got up there and torched them all, it was beautiful to behold.
He hit all the high points: they pose as eco-warriors but fly private jets everywhere; they pose as feminists but they sucked up to Harvey Weinstein and Jeffrey Epstein as they preyed on women; they pose as socialists fighting corporate greed but they take obscene salaries from the biggest corporations on the planet.
In an early contender for “Best Quote of 2020,” he warned the nominees that, “If you do win an award tonight, don’t use it as a platform to make a political speech. You’re in no position to lecture the public about anything. You know nothing about the real world.”
Every normal person in the country, when they heard that — I mean the day after the show, because no normal person was actually watching the Golden Globes live – cheered at that.
But were the actors in the room suitably chastened? Of course not. Even after the much-deserved verbal whipping, several actors STILL shared their deep political thoughts with us in their speeches. Patricia Arquette (I loved her in True Romance 20 years ago) talked about how terrible Trump has us on the brink of war, and also Australia is on fire, because global warming, and Trump, I guess.
Michelle Williams – who I thought was the cute singer in the Mamas and the Papas a million years ago, but I was wrong – gave a vapid speech about abortion, without mentioning the word “abortion.” After talking about her professional success, she said, “I would not have been able to do this without employing a woman’s right to choose.”
By which I guess she does NOT mean that she chose an Uber over a private jet to get to the awards show, or that she chose a good acting coach or plastic surgeon. I think that she probably means that she got rid of an inconvenient life at some point in the past. But hey, she got that keen little trophy out of it.
I know it would probably be bad form for me to point out that as I write this, I am looking at all of the trophies I’ve won in my life, which are lined up in impressive fashion on my bookshelves.
There’s the “Most Improved Player” from my senior year in high school football, my “High Average” bowling trophy from that same banner year, a third-place golf tournament trophy (I hit a pin-high approach shot with a five-iron on 18 that sealed the deal, thanks for asking), and my “Best Fantasy Short Story of the Year Published in the UK” award.
(That last one was for “Dancing About Architecture,” which you can read at Martinsimpsonwriting.com, if you are in the mood for some magical realism-style fiction.)
Also, I know: I didn’t mention my Runner-up Award for “People Magazine’s Sexiest Man of Year, 2018.” Because that’s still a very painful memory. And Idris Elba is dead to me.
Where was I? Oh yeah.
I’m proud of all of those trophies, as I’m sure that Michelle Williams is proud of the trophy that she won for pretending to be somebody else. But I wouldn’t trade one of my daughters for any of them.
On the heels of the Gervais rhetorical drone strike on Hollywood, the bad Orange Man went Bad Orange Bad-Arse on Qassim Soleimani, in a hugely satisfying explosion that also took out another high-ranking Hezbollah terrorist with five names, starting with “Abu.”
(I’d devote more time to filling out my terrorist-name score card, except that all of them seem to be named either Mohammed or Abu, so it’s very confusing. Also, every time I get my brackets almost done, Trump comes in and kills another one of them, and we’re back to square one.)
Heading into March Madness this year, I’m just going to save time and bet on Abu Gonzaga. (BOOM! Now I’ve just got to work out three times a week, and 2020 will be a wild success!)
As great as it was that Trump took out a clown car full of evil terrorists, it was even better to watch the aftermath in America, where every national Democrat seemed determined to do as much damage to their political future as Trump had done to Soleimani’s chances of getting his rental car deposit back.
It started before the strike, when a bunch of Dems — all of whom had nothing to say when Obama and “What Difference Does it Make? CAW CAW” did nothing when our embassy in Benghazi was destroyed – lambasted Trump for not preventing an Iranian attack on our Iraqi embassy on New Year’s Eve.
When Trump whacked Soleimani (and several assorted Abu’s) four days later, those same Dems hysterically screamed that he is a war monger who is going to KILL US ALL!
Propaganda filmmaker and Macy’s Day Parade balloon Michael Moore actually apologized to the Iranian mullahs for our president’s killing their pet Bin Laden-wannabe. MSM reports said that he issued that apology in Farsi – I’m not making that up! – but if I know Mikey, he was likely trying to apologize while gnawing on a comically-oversized turkey leg.
And everyone knows that when you are apologizing to murderous scumbags with a maw full of half-chewed turkey, everything comes out sounding like Farsi.
It’s a cliché because it’s true.
Pelosi and a bunch of other Dems did their best to attack Trump’s action, suggesting that Soleimani was not so much as a terrorist with the blood of hundreds of American soldiers and many thousands of others on his hands, as a “beloved political leader.”
Chris “Tingle up My Leg” Matthews actually called Soleimani a war hero to Iranians, and compared the Iranian people’s reaction to his death to our culture’s reaction to the deaths of Princess Diana or Elvis. (By the way, how much would you have liked to see someone show a picture of Soleimani’s bombed car with Elvis’ “Hunk of Burning Love” playing at that creep’s funeral? “Lord almighty/I feel my temperature rising/ Higher, higher/it’s burning through to my soul!”)
Grandma Squanto also got her deerskin dress up over her head (#wemustneverstopmockingher), fighting repeated attempts to get her to call Soleimani a terrorist by insisting that he was a “senior foreign military official,” before she finally gave up.
Many Dems – probably after seeing how poorly their efforts at turning a dead terrorist into a Trump blunder were playing with normal human voters – eventually had to grudgingly admit that Soleimani deserved to die. But then they immediately pivoted to how it was still a terrible mistake for Trump to kill him, and what if WW3 starts over this?
Hysterical MSM reports actually ran scare headlines about a possible draft, and “journalists” pretended to believe that Soleimani might turn out to be an Archduke Ferdinand for the 21st century. Iran would certainly strike back, and what kind of horrible, cataclysmic – possibly nuclear — attack would that turn out to be?!!!
Then, as reporters got into fetal positions and trembled, the mighty mullahs of Iran shook their terrible fists, and unleashed a hellish missile strike! Did they target critical oil fields, or allied shipping in the Strait of Hormuz, or American embassies throughout the region, or Israeli civilians in Tel Aviv?
No. They struck some empty desert near an Iraqi military base. In the immediate aftermath, MSM naifs breathlessly repeated Iranian media reports of dozens of US deaths and many more injuries. Until it turned out that a revised casualty and death rate were adjusted to… zero of both.
If the killing of Soleimani was the cake, then the icing on that cake was the feeble Iranian response. The mullahs were so terrified that the Orange Man would strike them again, they warned the Iraqis and Americans about their own missile strike, just to be sure they didn’t accidentally kill any Americans.
And now, the cherry on top of that icing is that the Iranian populace has taken to the streets, protesting and chanting against THEIR OWN GOVERNMENT!
When the Democrat leadership gets back home after attending Soleimani’s funeral, they are going to have some re-thinking to do!
Avenatti & an Abu To-be-Named-Later, 2020!