Well, it feels like a year’s worth of action has been packed into the last seven days. This might have to be another three-column week for me, since I can barely stay on my feet against the pressure of the firehose of good news coming out of the White House!
But I’m going to try, so let’s start in Hollywood.
In another example of lefty artists making it hard to appreciate their art once they’ve opened their mouths to share their deep political thoughts, Ron Howard has “pulled a DeNiro.” (I love DeNiro’s acting, Bruce Springsteen’s music, and many of Stephen King’s books, but they’ve all revealed themselves to be malevolent morons when it comes to politics, thus making it tougher to watch, listen to or read them.)
Howard was an adorable child actor, and directed a lot of good movies as an adult. But this weekend he tweeted out a suggestion that if Trump wants to improve the Fed’s disaster responses, he should pick Chef Jose Andres to head up those efforts.
I didn’t know much about Andres – a Venn diagram of hungry hillbilly Simpsons and a chef who serves dinners-for-two in the $1000 range would be two separate circles, a mile away from each other – but Howard notes that the chef is “not a supporter” of Trump’s.
A quick search shows that Andres was much angrier when some Palestinians were accidentally killed by Israel strikes than he was at the genocidal Hamas terrorists who intentionally murdered Israelis. Also, he is a hero among Democrats. (Unexpectedly!) And he took a smiling picture with the whack job who tried to assassinate Trump at the golf course.
To be fair to Andres, I’m assuming he took that pic before the whack job tried to murder Trump. On the other hand, one should be able to spot that loon from a mile away, because he’s got “whack job” written all over him.
Anyway, Howard’s suggestion has all the earmarks of low-IQ Hollywood celebrity ideas: after four years of extreme-left Trump haters screwing up everything they touch, Trump really should consider appointing an extreme-left Trump hater to continue that tradition.
To quote Dr. Evil, “How about NO!” And Ron, how about you focus on skipping rocks on a pond in Mayberry, and on making a good movie? Because as soon as you turn to politics, you inevitably go from Opie to Dopey.
Also, I find the first sentence of Howard’s tweet to be ironic: “Here’s a thought.”
Nope. Here is most definitely NOT a thought.
Speaking of people for whom clear thinking is not a strong suit, how about Illinois governor J.B. “you can’t spell ‘Jumbo’ without ‘J.B.’” Pritzker, D-irigible?
His mouth is proportionately large enough for the rest of him (too bad about the brain, though), and he’s been regularly shooting it off on the subject of how he’s not going to cooperate with Trump’s enforcement of our immigration laws. However, even he has started to tone it down a bit, now that Trump is in office.
He announced on Sunday that he has no problem with Trump deporting violent criminals, going so far as to say, “We hope they do get deported.” Which is rich, coming from him. He’s done nothing to protect Illinois citizens from those scumbags for four years, and he’s not pledging to take action himself. But now he’s “hoping” that the Deportation Fairy will come during the night and flit away with the predators, I guess.
But he’s not on board with deporting regular ol’ salt-of-the-earth illegal immigrants. And this is where the Left’s mastery of dishonest language does some heavy lifting.
Because he tells sour Dana Bash that he finds it “quite disturbing” that Trump is also “going after people who are law-abiding, who are holding down jobs….” A reasonable person might be aware that legitimate jobs require that the employee either has citizenship or legal working status (a green card or working visa).
If the left can convince people to think of illegals as “undocumented,” their lying becomes easier to get away with.
But if we insist on using accurate language, Pritzker (#putdownthatcomicallyoversizedturkeyleg) is actually saying that we should not interfere with “law-abiding people who are here illegally and working illegally.”
Even someone with a weak and misfiring, Grandma-Squanto-level brain (#wemustneverstopmockingher) can tell that that sounds a little off.
My favorite story of the weekend is probably yours too: the hilarious tale of the Colombia two-step.
Since the election, I’ve been having a friendly disagreement with an extended family member about Trump’s use of tariffs. He is afraid they will be rigid impositions that will severely damage our economy, while I am one of those nutty conservatives who thinks they are negotiating tools that Trump will use to get various foreign miscalculators’ minds right.
After Sunday, I hate to say, “I told you so.” But how can I not? When Colombia’s president Gustavo Petro forgot that Biden is not in office anymore, he talked tough about not taking his criminals back. So Trump responded with immediate retaliatory tariffs, travel restrictions, and the like.
Of course, many lefties jumped on the story in a bunch of posts that aged like milk, immediately beclowning themselves in the most ridiculous ways.
Ana Navarro panicked, “We won’t have any flowers for Valentines Day!” (To paraphrase Triumph the Insult Comic Dog, “I’ve never seen so many people worried that they won’t be able to receive roses on a romantic holiday for purely hypothetical purposes.”)
AOC got her juicy booty (her words, not mine) spanked for shrieking that, “Trump is about to make every American pay even more for coffee,” and that, “WE pay the tariffs, not Colombia.”
These were variations on the usual Dem argument against deporting otherwise “law-abiding” illegals, because without them, we’ll have to clean our own buildings and toilets, and do our own landscaping, and pay more for strawberries.
Because, “I don’t care if my country gets invaded, and crime increases, and our schools and emergency rooms and jails are filled with foreign criminals, and I get hit by unlicensed and uninsured foreign drivers, and my daughters get raped and killed like Laken Riley or Jocelyn Nungaray, as long as I get indentured servants to mow my lawn and feed me cheaper strawberries.”
SAID. NOBODY. EVER!
But as the Sponge Bob transition goes,
One… hour… lay-tair…
Petro said, “Oh, you were talking about THOSE criminals? Sure, I’ll take them back.” And then Trump silently gave him the “mug shot look” for an uncomfortably long minute. And Petro began sweating, and said, “Um… and… I- I- I’ll pick them up… i- i- in my own presidential plane!”
And Trump gave him a small smile, and held out his hand to allow Petro to kiss his ring and swear fealty.
I didn’t think that Trump would win so quickly, but I knew that he would win eventually. Because common sense tells me that a small country needs trade with America a lot more than America needs that trade.
I don’t think that means we should therefore bully small countries, just because we can. But when they are trying to bully US? Get out of here with that.
Even though I thought that the tariffs on Colombia would take much longer to work, I was still a fan, because of the message it would send to other nations, i.e. “pour encourager les autres” (for the encouragement of others).
The phrase is Voltaire’s, and French, but it has a Sicilian feel to me. And I’m here for it!
Finally, on a more somber note, I never thought of God as a kind of Michael Corleone figure, working on a, “Today we settle all family business” kind of agenda. And yet, it wasn’t tough to see some of those overtones on inauguration day. (For starters, “God” is right there in “Godfather,” so how didn’t I see that coming?)
Trump stood in the secular/civil version of a sacred space (the Capitol Rotunda) taking his vows, just like Michael took his in a church at a christening. And while the vows were being recited, treacherous DEI bureaucrats and deep state saboteurs were getting whacked all over the countryside. Executive orders were dropping like shotgun pellets blasting into elevators, and bullets into Moe Green’s glasses.
And on that very day, Cecile Richards – the ghoul who proudly oversaw 4 million lives cut short through her network of Planned Parenthood abortuaries – died.
Normally, death is an event worth mourning, and one week is way too soon to discuss any silver lining in somebody’s passing. But I think we owe it to Richards to take her worldview seriously, and assess her death in terms that someone in her line of work would wholeheartedly endorse. And none of her co-religionists who are enthusiastically carrying on her bloody work should be offended if we use their language to commemorate the event. Therefore…
“On January 20th, 2025, during their 271st trimester, the clump of cells known as Cecile Richards received a final act of women’s reproductive healthcare, which converted them into medical waste. Anyone saddened by this news is probably a theocratic fascist, and certainly a misogynist, and should mind their own business.”
Now if you’ll excuse him, Trump has to talk to Merrick Garland, whom he calls “Carlo,” for some reason.
“You have to answer for Daniel Penny, Carlo…. Milley is out. So is Jack Smith. Liz Cheney. Kinzinger. Today I settle all DOJ business.” Garland’s lip starts quivering. Trump puts his hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t be afraid. (gestures over Garland’s shoulder) J.D., get him a drink.” J.D. does, and Garland drinks it down. Trump says, “Come on, I’m not going to make the wife of an ex-AG a widow. No, your punishment is you never get to be on the Supreme Court. But don’t tell me you’re innocent!”
Meanwhile, a car sits and idles outside the White House, with Tom Homan sitting in the back, behind the empty, passenger-side front seat.
And, scene.
Martin Simpson 