Rehabbed and whitewashed — for now
I have no intention of wasting so much as a minute watching the Moonbat National Convention bait-and-switch show this week, but some of those who’ve done so say that the miraculous conversion of the bitter, America-disparaging Queen of Heaven into a sort of modern-day Donna Reed was truly something to behold. Needless to say, the Last True Conservative experienced frissons of delight and then peed down his leg in a spasm of uncontrollable bliss (and of course it’s all ultimately about gay marriage, just as everything else is in his strange, manic world), and others of the Savior’s apostles in Old Dead Media are still straining mightily in the beat-off contest they’ve been running since Obamacommie announced (priceless Chris Matthews quote: “ohhh, uhhh, unnngggh, ahhhhhhh…pass me a Wet-Nap, Keith”). But Byron York, for one, ain’t buying it, thanks. And neither is Jim Geraghty.
Any locked-ward Nutrooters upset by Michelle’s shocking transmogrification from snarling, resentful victim of American racist opression into Huxtable Lite needn’t worry overmuch; there’s no way she’ll be able to keep up her ebullient convention facade for long. Anybody who enthusiastically filled a ringside pew in Reverend Wright’s hatemongering Chicago circus for as long as she did will have to revert to bitter, whining type sooner rather than later. Count on it.
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