Three years ago, the United States elected Barack Obama to the presidency. And since the president laid out his legislative agenda — more stimulus, more bailouts, more taxes and Obamacare — it’s been a little hard to keep up with the outrage. Honestly, the speed at which conservative fears have been realized has been so shocking that by the time the 2012 heat wave hit, it was becoming a sort of blur, a slog, a malaise — a depression that even the white-knuckled excitement of a possible Rob Portman vice-presidential nomination could not wake us from.
And then, a blessing. Really. The kind that inspires a near-giddy sort of patriotic rage: pure, in that it is directed at the most shamelessly sissy thing we’ve seen all summer, and in that its negative consequences affect us, well, not at all.
We’re talking, of course, about the decline of man, the death of the (Wild) West, the end of days, or, as one group of P.C. experts so succinctly put it, “the pussification of America.” We’re talking , of course, about the Commie-manufactured, Matilda-inspired Ralph Lauren (pronounced: LÔR-ən…) Olympian douche-suits.
Intolerable Act No. 1) Those Goddamn Communists
Let’s just ignore that the Olympics started out with burly men wrestling in the nude, and peaked with running fast in circles. Let’s look past the fact that rugby won’t be played, but badminton is represented. Let’s not even get started on the fact that women’s volleyball — perhaps the most impressive Olympic sport next to nothing, can now be played in shorts. Instead, let’s focus on one thing that even has Harry Reid— an architect of American decline — outraged: These lily white pants and gold-button blazers were manufactured by
Communist China — a vast stretch of modern gulags, a global leader in religious persecution, a master of mass suppression and, at best, a competitor — more likely an adversary — of the United States.
As if it hadn’t been rubbed into our faces enough four years ago when Chinese power (choreography), stagecraft (propaganda), athleticism (cheating) and efficiency (contempt for blacks and its own citizenry) was on full, in-your-face-America, international display. We mean, in all seriousness, the Olympics isn’t really about friendship and cooperation, it’s about winning; it’s about impressing the peasants; it’s about building heinous architecture to commemorate pricey free love and sweaty crowds.
Now, we should all know that “the market economy, allocating resources by the free play of supply and demand, is the single economic system compatible with the requirements of personal freedom and constitutional government, and that it is at the same time the most productive supplier of human needs.” But shut up: This is not about America’s declining manufacturing (it would take a lot more than an Olympic order to beat back the results of over-regulation, union overreach and high taxes) — this is about that tough old American spirit in a worldwide competition, and it’s about as Mercantilist as you can get: To hell with bronze and silver — we win, they lose.
We also all know that unless you’re Saudi Arabia, you can’t outsource old-fashioned manliness, and unless you’re Napoleon, you can’t outsource old-fashioned nationalism. So when we’re dressing our young men and women to compete with China on the world stage (even if nobody is watching), they better be wearing 1) A big old American flag; 2) A sharp and sporty jacket; and 3) No damn berets.