Dear Speaker Pelosi,
It is near impossible to find a “Happy Birthday to the Woman Who Ruined My Country” greeting card in the local drugstore, so this letter will have to do. I hope you don’t mind.
You know, Madame Speaker, it’s a good thing that Hallmark’s “Animosity” section is so threadbare, because this letter has been a long time in the making. It is the culmination of not only my own patience beginning to boil over but, as shown by your recent 11 percent job approval rating, also the patience of a vast majority of the American populace as well. You, Madame Pelosi, will not limit me to one vote; if, indeed, there is any truth to the old adage, “The Pen is Mightier than the Sword,” then we’re about to find out.
Let me be very clear, Mrs. Pelosi: my mission in life is now solely dedicated to influencing, in any way that I possibly can, your removal from office. Strong words from an insignificant man in the smallest state in the union, I know, but you are a threat to America and, as shown this week as you forced through an unconstitutional bill and triumphantly trampled over the individual liberties of 300 million Americans, a domestic enemy of America’s Constitution. And best yet, birthday girl, is the reality that everyone–save the mindless automatons who blindly follow you–knows it.
Most importantly, though, you’re a threat to something even more precious to me – my son’s future happiness. Apparently, in your desperate, tunnel-visioned attempts to take power in megalomaniacal style, you have badly lost sight of a fundamental truth about life: never get in the way of a parent trying to protect his child. It’s a losing proposition, each and every time.
Of course, please understand that unlike the throngs on the left who made movies about the hypothetical assassination of George W. Bush and cheered when an irate Iraqi hurled a loafer at him, I would never wish any physical harm to come to you or your Democratic Party flunkies — I just want you to go back to your swank vineyards and stay there. Forever. Right beside all the “low-cost” labor that you have picking your grapes and holding them over your head for you. I think, however, that the single most pressing question which–believe it or not–occasionally keeps me awake at night concerns the source of your unbalanced mindset.
Where did it ever come from? Inevitably, I always come back to one, single, solitary word:
Woodstock. Seriously, Woodstock. I mean, think of the mind-altering drugs!
See, I’ve been trying to do a lot of crazy math lately — you and yours have forced me into my dingy little basement, where I’ve been wearing my little accounting visor and using my little tickertape calculator, and the funny thing is that each time I run the numbers on your wonderful health care plan, they just don’t add up. I mean, I’m no Congressional Budget Office expert or anything like that, but I worked on a lot of math like this in high school. I actually did pretty well, too. All I can figure is that the Progressive Caucus–and, of course, since they’re “liberals” I can only assume that they’re brilliant–must be using the “new math.”
I remember hearing about that in the third grade, I think, but I never really took to it, so I guess I’ll have to plead mathematical ignorance here. In any event, I mention math because I’ve been told that you turn 70 years old today. Well, when I subtract 42, I arrive at 28 (at least in the old math). That’s a bit old to have found oneself at Woodstock–I think, anyway–since many young adults are generally coming into their own as mature, reasonable individuals by that time. Then again, “mature” and “reasonable” are two things that you decidedly are not, even at 70. Based on the behavior of yourself, Mr. Reid and Mr. Obama, I can only conclude that you were all at Max Yasgur’s farm 42 years ago, or at the very least you have been greatly influenced by the culture of that time period. (Again, the mind-altering drugs.) Now that I think about it, though, Mr. Obama couldn’t have been at Woodstock as he would only have been seven years old and, clearly, no respectable parent would have ever allowed a young, innocent, impressionable child to experience such a festival of personal degradation. The mind-altering drugs, after all, could have come later.
If not Woodstock, where else might you have developed your perspective, that outlook grounded in an intent to destroy the Unites States of America as we know it? I’m really very concerned, about both you and your colleagues — from where does such a bottomless well of anger spring? The way I look at it–and, of course, we both know that I’m not nearly as intelligent as someone the likes of you, or Billy Ayers, or Bill Maher–I can only see three immediate possibilities: an outlandish sense of elitism (which, ironically, is the very thing that you attack in order to turn the lower classes against the producers of society), a sense of sheer entitlement as a result of having been born with a silver spoon in your mouth or, quite possibly, being one of many children born to communist parents. Perhaps it’s all three. I don’t know, and in the bigger picture I honestly don’t care. I only know one thing: it’s time for you to go.
We’ve all been privy to some truly corrupt politicians in our life, Mrs. Pelosi, but you and your “comrades” are, quite honestly, breathtaking in the scope of your utter disregard for time-honored parliamentary procedure and complete disdain for the United States Constitution. You and all of the other Progressives continue to figuratively “poke” the American people in the chest, desperately trying to pick a fight. Well, you’ve succeeded. You’ve been foolish enough to wake up the American people, and if it’s a fight you want then it’s a fight you’ll get. Just remember two things: we never asked for this fight, and be careful what you wish for.
The liberal mindset is nothing more than that of a petulant child, one who has never gotten his way with his parents, and one who consequently throws tantrums. How else would you explain the behavior of a group of people who not only refuse to accept responsibility for their own actions but who also teach others that shifting blame and avoiding accountability is the proper way to live? Let me ask you this – when was the last time you saw a violent demonstration from a group of conservatives?
Before I let you return to your cake and ice cream and brainstorming sessions about how best to further undermine the ideas and ideals upon which this nation was founded, let me close with two thoughts.
First, as crazy as it might sound, when I think of you and your caucus, I think of Dr. Seuss. Specifically his book, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, which carries an incredibly relevant lesson for both sides of this battle. At the end of the story, the Grinch finally realizes that Christmas and the spirituality at its center is not something that can be held or touched – it’s an idea. The people of Whoville, despite having had their Christmas “taken away” in a material sense by the Grinch, still come together as brothers and sisters. You see, Mrs. Pelosi, America is an idea–or, better yet, an ideal–that you will never be able to defeat. You may succeed for a short time in trying to physically break apart what exists between borders and its economic infrastructure, but you can never defeat an idea. You’ll be waging an endless battle, one that may consume people for generations to come; in the end, it’s a battle that you’ll never, ever, be able to win. I really don’t think you want to start turning ordinary American citizens into martyrs.
The second item with which I’d like to leave you is this: the full version of the “Star-Spangled Banner.” Corny, I know, but humor me — I tend to think that not many people have heard. Enjoy.
O! say can you see by the dawn’s early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,
O’er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
O! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war’s desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav’n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: ‘In God is our trust.’
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
I’d truly like to meet you some day, Madame Speaker. I’m fairly certain that such an occasion will likely never occur, however, simply because you lack the courage to stand face-to-face with a real American citizen who will look back at you with a firm belief in his convictions and in the freedom of the individual. As people burdened with the mindset of a child, cowardice tends to be an integral personal characteristic, one that naturally lends itself to trying to do things to others under the cover of darkness. Sound familiar? It should. It’s you.
Have your people call my people. I’ll be waiting in quivering anticipation. Best of luck in the future and, sincerely, happy birthday.
John J. Feeny