Feather Metchants, The Fantods, Libtards
By Harry M. Covert
There is some good news escaping from the mess of feather merchants holding forth within the Halls of Congress. Let me explain, trying to avoid any name-calling.
My mama constantly warned me to shun “vain and profane babbling.” Obviously, I didn’t listen too well.
I better confess. In this writing and opinion game, it’s more fun calling those on the “wrong side” of truth, justice and the American way, moon bats.
Individually they can be described goofy, insurrectionists or mutineers. I’ll do that later. What genteelly of times past was called the loyal opposition, it’s nothing of the sort these days.
Seems like the worm has turned on the creepy Congress members bearing tabs as socialist democrats. Of late, the newest attorney general has given the fantods to the would-be over throwers of the plain-speaking Donald J. Trump.
Note: he still flies around on Trump One, aka Air Force One, Marine One and Golfer One.
Before I am charged with word piracy, Feather Merchants means loafers and people who don’t take responsibility. It is also a book by humorist Max Shulman.
H. Allen Smith, wit par excellence, led me to using, fantods, meaning attacks of uneasiness. The jumps.
The late Bill Safire, noted scribe, created moonbat to describe liberal Democrats. He was on the mark.
Now, Messers Shulman, Smith and Safire would be having field days “funning” the inglorious conduct now falling into major disrepute. Two years of lying, perpetuating ill feelings and make believe. Attorney General Bill Barr has grabbed the facts and the day of retribution is at hand.
There is a bright side coming. Patience, of course, is a virtue. To be accurate, there is no truth to a rumor that Mr. Trump was heard praying in the Oval Office, “Lord in Heaven please, please give me patience and do it now.”
Mr. T did find these handwritten words from Teddy Roosevelt, “walk softly but carry a big stick.” TR was the 26th and youngest ever president at 42.
Well, it appears Mr. T has his own truncheon and will be going to work on the “revolutionists” trying to disarm the populace of deplorables anxious for 2020.
I don’t know the day or time, but I most certainly want to watch the “perp walks and frog marches when the Libtard Lovers are welcomed to the judicial gates.
To be nice, there should be no guffawing, rejoicing or patriotic singing on that day. Oh, why not? Rejoice. Again I say rejoice.
This column has appeared in The Tentacle.