Posted on August
28, 2024
Joyks
Is anyone buying the Democrats' happy
talk?
by
Daniel
Clark
In case you are fortunate enough to have missed it,
the theme of this year's Democratic National Convention was "joy." If you find that unconvincing, there are very
good reasons why. The truth be known,
there is more joy even in Mudville than there is in the Democratic Party, which
is comprised largely of godless wonks who view every aspect of each of our
lives as another one of their own managerial problems. Obviously, part of the reason they chose this
upbeat message was to minimize the negative impact of the nervous,
situationally inappropriate laughter for which their presidential nominee,
Kamala Harris, is known. We are now
expected to believe the reason for it is that she is an optimistic can-do
candidate who simply cannot contain her joy.
Yukking
it up with her at the convention was Tim Walz, the man who has been given the
vice presidential nomination by his party because the other guy was too
Jewish. The presence of a Jew on the
ticket would never have been tolerated by the Hamas supporters who are becoming
an increasingly influential faction of the Democrat coalition. Mind you, these hateful, anti-American
terrorist sympathizers are not nearly the majority in their party. Most of the others merely feel compelled to
placate them, for the sake of political expediency. What a rollicking funhouse a convention hall
filled with such people must be.
Democrats are often at their most mirthful when they
tell us that the earth is in the process of being destroyed by human prosperity. Their solution is to make us less prosperous,
by imposing an endless series of deprivations.
In order to "save the planet," they tell us we can't have cars that run
in hot or cold weather, household appliances that work, toilets that flush,
plastic grocery bags or red meat.
Furthermore, they scold us for creating things that used to be known as
natural disasters, telling us that hurricanes, wildfires and blizzards are all
our fault!
Another cheerful message of theirs is that America is
not only systemically racist, but irredeemably so. That last part relieves them of the
expectation that they actually identify and repair any flawed parts of the
system. Instead, they get to have oodles
of fun publicly brooding over the matter, picking historical scabs, pitting
people against each other, and teaching children to harbor irrational feelings
of guilt and hostility.
Never are Democrats more gleeful than when they
instigate class warfare, telling everybody who will listen that people are helplessly
trapped in stratified socioeconomic classes, and that the only way to improve one's
own situation is to tear down somebody else.
What fun they have inciting resentment
against bogeymen like the "privileged" or the "one-percenters," as they did in
the Occupy movement during the Obama years.
They champion the concept of "equity," which Harris
defines as the desired circumstance under which "we all end up at the same
place." Well, no problem, then. All we need is a government that is powerful
enough to dictate the paths of all of our lives. Once it has crushed our natural ambition and
ingenuity, and turned life into a monotonous, demoralizing, meaningless slog,
then we will be in paradise. The
realization that there's nothing we can do that really matters can be quite
liberating, if you sit down and think about it, while stoned.
It is only consistent with this nihilistic way of
thinking that much of the jocularity around the Democratic Convention consisted
of a celebration of the killing of innocents.
The festivities began with a gaggle of feminist rattlenoggins parading
around in abortion pill costumes labeled "MIFE" for mifepristone and "MISO" for
misoprostol, because if you're a good Democrat, you and those lethal drugs are
on a first-name basis.
It wouldn't be long before the real things made an
appearance, with Planned Parenthood sending a drive-by abortion truck to the
event to distribute the pills. By the
end of the convention, the organization was believed to have flushed away 25
tiny human beings (sorry, "pregnancies"). In its instructions for the do-it-yourself
procedure, PP explains, "It's normal to see large blood clots (up to the size
of a lemon)." What happy people they
must be, to find such a thing to be normal.
A restaurant called The Wiener's Circle whimsically
offered a free frankfurter to anyone who had visited the mobile death dispensary. Who in the world could possibly want to go to
the abortion hot dog shop, you might wonder.
Why, joyful Democrats, of course.
Yippee.
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