Barry Honey, Where Has All the Love Gone?

Now I must admit, my dear Mr. President, I didn't really believe that the moment you were elected the seas would start receding or the planet would miraculously heal or that every American would suddenly be cured of whatever ailed him, or even that kumbayah would become the national anthem. 

Barry Honey, you rode the love-train to victory. I was a skeptic, but as an American citizen, and especially as a mother, I certainly did hope that at least some of that overflowing sentimentalism was genuine.  I have truly tried to give you the benefit of the doubt with regard to your intentions, hoping they were indeed fraught with goodwill.

But your non-scripted moments have been the nightmare of good mothers everywhere, and if you were my son, I would be having conversations with you in the proverbial woodshed.

Appearing on a late night comedy show as the President of the United States is enough impropriety in and of itself, but mocking those less naturally endowed than you at the same time, went so far over the ledge of decency that I was ashamed for you, ashamed for the parenting you received and equally ashamed of the idiots who laughed at such a malicious attempt at humor.  Self-deprecation at the expense of others is just about the nastiest bully tactic in the world, but surely something that ought to be fully renounced prior to the third grade.

And I've a bit of shocking news for you, Honey. 

Your bowling doesn't even come close to any Special Olympian's I've ever seen.

We know you're not a bowler; you can put that campaign pretense to bed.

Of course, you were so new to the job when you appeared with Leno that most Americans gave you a generous pass with your bully-jab at Special Olympians, but you're more than 3 months into it now, and even if you weren't taught better by your own mother, you've enough knowledgeable staff to fill you in on public propriety.  Your excuses for vicious, below-the-belt humor are now dead in the water.  

As your mommy may have told you at least once or twice, it's not nice to laugh at hateful jokes.

A good man stands up for what's right; it's a leader's job to lead the way. 

Your behavior at the White House Correspondents' Dinner was enough to send artic chills down the spine of every decent mother on the planet. 

When Ms. Sykes told the so-called joke -- which has now been heard around the world -- hoping that Rush Limbaugh's "kidneys fail," we could expect as much from her.  She has made her fortune on gutter humor; there isn't much room to go lower.  But your own uproarious laughter at such malignant humor shames not only you, your mother, your grandmother, your wife and your mother in-law, it shames the entire citizenry of the United States of America.

Any well-read citizen knows full-well why Ms. Sykes took aim at Rush Limbaugh.  Ms. Sykes, a recently out-of-the-closet lesbian who "married" her partner in 2008, just before the citizens of California overwhelmingly rejected gay "marriage" at the ballot box disparages Rush Limbaugh for the same obvious reason that Hilton Perez maliciously spurns Miss California.  Anyone with a single grain of common sense gets that. 

Gay rights activists have come fully out of the closet as hate-filled heterophobes with seemingly nothing better to do than besmirch the reputations of all gay people everywhere.   Running around, as they have unceasingly in California, threatening people for exercising their free-speech right to disagree on public policy, impugning reputations, and using defamatory obscenities comes very close to the same degree of "love" as Bull Connor on a rampage with his fire hoses.

Ms. Sykes has the distinction of being a thrice specially protected species at this moment:  she's a she; she's black; she's a lesbian. 

We get that.

What we do not understand, however, is why our President, the one who ran an unceasing love-train campaign for the Office, does not have the common decency to at least not laugh at death-wish, gutter humor.

As I listened to Ms. Sykes' false premise for using her infamously lethal tongue against Rush Limbaugh, that she considers him on equal footing with the 9/11 terrorists, I could not help but be reminded of your own singling Rush out as a target.  When you told Republicans who refused to go along with your faux stimulus bill that they couldn't get anything done by "just listening to Rush Limbaugh," I thought you were kidding around, had forgotten what office you were in or hadn't realized that the mikes were hot.

When your DHS released the document insisting that pro-lifers, 2nd Amendment supporters and even returning Vets should be considered as potential enemies of the U.S., however, your malicious intent should have been crystal clear.  When you bow and scrape to evil leaders, plotting our death and destruction, we should know better than to give you the benefit of doubt. 

Your laughter at death-wish humor in a forum seen round the world has now made it impossible for any citizen to mistake your bad manners for mere ignorance. 

We now fully understand that your unscripted moments, your DHS strong-arm tactics and your apologies for America on foreign soil represent the real you.

And there ain't no real love anywhere in the mix. 

Making the rounds with an adorable puppy, we now understand, is as fake as your bowling pretense.

Until our next chat, Barry Honey, I remain your increasingly dissident constituent, without the slightest remaining shred of faith in you as a man of goodwill.

Kyle-Anne Shiver is a frequent contributor to American Thinker.  She welcomes your comments at kyleanneshiver.com.
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