What if we demanded honesty of politicians?
Just once. Just one time before election day I would like to see an interviewer stand up and lean towards — but not into — a politician’s face and say emphatically: “If you don’t stop your filibustering (i.e.word salad) and start answering my questions this interview is over!”
Can you imagine what television would look like the next day? I can. Joe Scarborough’s head would be spinning so fast his wife would be screaming for help but no one could help because of the friction heat. The hair of the hens on “The View” would look like they just climbed off a barnstormer’s airplane wing after doing a 150 mph 30-minute show, waving their arms and shouting expletives we’ve never heard before.
How dare you lecture our Queen! She told you what’s wrong with America many times before. She just wants to say it 20 more times during the interview and you should let the wise woman talk. That’s all she knows and by golly she wants every voter to elect her on that premise.
It’s Trump’s fault. It’s all on him. Had it not been for him this country would be a thousand times better off and we would not have illegals swimming the Rio Grande and coming into the U.S. at 2,000 plus a day.
We would all be mandated to buy an electric car and save the environment, but Trump wants us to keep driving gas-powered cars and stop the electric car production and won’t offer you a choice.
Now readers, you see the bull that’s beginning to coat a layer of lies all over our nation. We are in grave danger of electing an air head who can’t do anything but make salad from words, a grossly unqualified person who never got one primary vote in the spring season; also participated in but denied knowing about the blindside on her boss that put her in the position she holds.
I’m saying it again, I do not feel good about this election. It’s as if God is not through punishing us yet for the sins we’ve committed in just this 21st century.
Pray that God saves us, Kamala Harris can’t, although if anyone would try to negotiate with God, it’s her.
Harold Arbogast
Parsons