Hope Is a Four Letter Word
If you have any interest in current affairs, you'll want to read this editorial in yesterday's Wall Street Journal entitled From McNamara to Obama. As much as I'd like to believe that some good ideas will solve all of our problems, Barack Obama's rhetoric makes me nervous, and Bret Stephens does a good job putting the reason for my nervousness into words.
Here's one paragraph which will give you some idea:
McNamara, who died yesterday at 93, will go down as a cautionary tale for the ages, and perhaps none more than for the Age of Obama. Whatever else distinguishes JFK's New Frontier or LBJ's Great Society from Barack Obama's "New Foundation," this too is an era of soaring rhetoric, big plans and boundless self-regard, issued by an administration convinced it can apply technocratic, top-down solutions to huge and unpredictable systems -- the banking, auto and health-care industries, for instance, or the climate. These are people deeply impressed by their own smarts, the ones for whom the phrase "the best and the brightest" has been scrubbed of its intended irony.
Here we go again.
Everybody wants one, but few are those who actually have one. The Estadounidense media would have you believing that every second Mexican has, or is in the market for, an assault weapon. You know, the garden variety AK-47s that are flooding the borders southward, a dozen or more in exchange for every northbound illegal immigrant, one of those balance of trade deals. And then there are those foreigners who seem to think that it’s illegal to possess a gun in Mexico. Dead wrong, of course, they are.
You thought Frank Constanza was joking about the manssiere. He wasn’t. Leave it to Nebraska native Julie Carmann, better known as 
The longer you live here, the closer you edge toward crossing The Line.
Meet Betsy and Matilda, who shop the racks of Forever 21, Bebe, H&M, and sometimes even Macy’s in search of clothing designed during drug-induced hallucinations, made in Anatevka, flourished with fleurchons, animal print, velour, rhinestones, bubble-hemmed, and inappropriately pocketed, and everything else fugesque, just to spare you the agony. They’ll try on anything our kind of people wouldn’t be caught dead in. These fug buddies have now compiled







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