Nothing, and I mean nothing, (okay, many other things) over the last few mind-numbing years of tyrannical fundamental transformation, irks me more than these impertinent and incessant campaign requests -- birthdays, anniversaries, Valentine's, Mother's and Father's Day wishes for our Rulers, at the behest of our Rulers. It would only be more irksome were Anna Wintour -- a natural for the next Hunger Game's Capitol villain --begging our adulations through her nauseatingly elitist brogue.
Mrs. Obama made no mention of the soldier dad away from his family on Father's Day; not the new and nervous dad enthralled with the perfect new life entrusted him; not the hardworking and selfless, law-abiding, taxpaying dad; or the jobless father trying to keep his family afloat in the Obama economy. No, the day belongs to Barack Hussein; the composite father who somehow fits fathering -- what appears to be a bi-annual photo op with his daughters walking hand in hand to church -- in between lavish celebrity-filled campaign events, secret meetings with Marxist friends, lawless fiat, economic ruin, and golf.
If that is the father we are to honor, I'll pass.
Many of us were fortunate to be raised by a responsible, moral, conservative father -- imperfect though he may have been.
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