April passes, but stop the presses! The very next day, on May 1, Mr. Osama bin Laden was shot in the head at a rather posh hideaway in glitzy Abbottabad, Pakistan, just a stone’s throw from a Pakistani military academy. SEAL Team Six did not throw any stones at the Pakistani academy, but it did helicopter in and out of Osama’s pad in less than 40 minutes, taking a limp Osama with them and leaving the place in a heap. Osama acted heroically, trying to use one of his wives as a shield, but for naught. She too was shot. President Barack Obama announced the happy news to the nation on the evening of May 1, though there were some slight embarrassments. The oaf Mr. Geraldo Rivera employed the ultimate malapropism. Instead of reporting, “Osama is dead,” he blurted out, “Obama is dead.” Then Mr. Rick Santelli yawped similarly and Mr. John Harwood too. Soon much of the Washington press corps was Tweeting “Obama” when they meant “Osama.” Poor Mr. Obama. Looking back on it all, would it not have been better had he kept the name Barry Obama or better yet Barry O’Bama? Yet, on the question of Mr. Osama’s whereabouts this past decade, I too was wrong. He apparently never became crêpe suzette for the worms of Tora Bora, and now he is serving as food for the fishes in the Arabian Sea, deposited there by SEAL Team Six. Nice going, boys. Let the environmentalists’ protests begin.
Earlier in the month the president kicked off his reelection campaign expressing the wish to get back with normal Americans. So he went to Chicago, then San Francisco. Archaeologists have unearthed a 5,000-year-old caveman whom they believe is the earliest known gay. “From history and ethnology,” explained Mrs. Kamila Remisova from tombside, “we know that people from this period took funeral rites very seriously so it is highly unlikely that this positioning was a mistake.” The body in question was found in the missionary position. Prince William took Kate Middleton as his lawful wedded wife in Westminster Abbey on April 29, and then trundled over to Buckingham Palace before a mob of half a million United Kingdom natives. No one was injured. The young couple dined apolaustically with 6,000 of their closest friends, but not as well as they could. Too late, traditional Chinese chefs arrived in London booming their specialty, spring eggs hardboiled in boys’ urine. A delicacy produced for more than 2,000 years in Donyang (pronounced, dong’ yang), Zhejiang province, “The urine is gathered from local schools” by fully certified chefs, attests chef Lu Ming, so there is no funny business. “The very best comes from boys under 10 years old” who urinate into buckets, boasts Mr. Ming. Privacy is always sedulously maintained. Yet it was not all glad tidings and warm urine for the Chinese culinary arts. On a highway near Beijing, more than 200 activists fell on a truck carrying 580 dogs to local eateries, and the mob blockaded it for 15 hours until they negotiated the dogs’ liberation for $17,000. Who will walk the hounds and where will they get enough doggie excrement bags has not been worked out, but it was a rare triumph for social activists in China, suggesting that if anti-cruelty conventions can only be extended to human beings, possibly every Chinese citizen can sit down to a hot dog in peace.
There has been an Al Gore sighting! In Nashville, Tennessee, Mr. Gore showed up with former president Bill Clinton for the funereal services of Mr. Ned McWherter, once Tennessee’s governor. Mr. Gore was mum on global warming, but said that Mr. McWherter “always kept a connection to working people and the rural poor.” Whether or not Mr. Gore, himself, made “a connection” at any of Nashville’s local massage parlors or had a masseuse come directly to his room while he was in the area could not be ascertained, but Mr. Clinton had a big smile on his face all the time he was in Nashville, even during the services. Greenhouse gas dropped to its lowest level in 15 years in 2009, according to the Environmental Protection Agency, but it was not all glum news for Mr. Gore. On April 19, the Mail Online reported-in derogatory terms-that “crazed cult leader” and “infamous killer” Mr. Charles Manson has broken his 20-year silence and come down foursquare for the Gore thesis. Mr. Manson said that “bad things” were being done to the environment. Taking a page from Mr. Gore, Mr. Manson said, “Everyone’s God and if we don’t wake up to that there’s going to be no weather because our polar caps are melting because we’re doing bad things to the environment.” The 76-year-old humanist spoke from California’s Corcoran State Prison, which is unaffiliated with Washington, D.C.’s Corcoran Gallery of Art, though they share a community of interests, especially in their futurist artistes.
Uganda erupted in rioting when veteran opposition leader, Mr. Kizza Besigye (pronounced, gibb rish’) suffered a gunshot wound to the hand. In Uganda the hand is considered an almost sacred part of the body, and many Ugandans eat with them. The American economy grew at a disappointing 1.8 percent in the first quarter of 2011, down from the 3.1 percent of the prior quarter but still higher than Uganda’s. India has another candidate for the Nobel Peace Prize. He is Mr. Har Prakash, who has had 305 national flags and 185 maps tattooed on his body, all for the cause of world peace. Which flag he has reserved for his private parts remains confidential, but he confirmed in Kathmandu, Nepal, where he was attending an international tattoo conference, that his ambition is to “promote friendship between nations.” Mr. Prakash follows in the path of another Indian idealist written about in these pages in April 2004. That would be Mr. Harpreet Devi, who, after driving his taxi backward for two years, decided to drive it from India to Pakistan for world peace and to illustrate his “reverse philosophy.” Indians have been performing such stunts since the days of the lunatic Mr. Mohandas K. Gandhi, the vegetarian and sex nut who was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize five times. Why he never got the prize is a mystery. President Obama already has one, though he has never driven his car backward or inquired of his secretary if she “had a good bowel movement”-a matutinal greeting favored by Gandhi and possibly by Bill Clinton.
Mr. Donald Trump’s pursuit of the Republican presidential nomination strengthened when he forced President Barack Obama to reveal his birth certificate. Now Mr. Trump wants him to reveal his records from Columbia University and information recorded during his law school days at Harvard State University. A New Mexican politician, former governor Mr. Gary Johnson, became a candidate for the Republican presidential nomination. Madame Nhu, the glamorous if enigmatic hostess in the presidential palace of the Republic of South Vietnam, died peacefully in Rome, and the inventor of the TelePrompTer, Mr. Hubert J. “Hub” Schlafly Jr., passed away. Mr. Obama did not attend the service. Finally Pope John Paul II was beatified or, as the New York Times columnist Miss Maureen Dowd says, beautified. One and a half million people showed up for the ceremony, not including pickpockets. The Crisis continues anon.
A man of faith in a godless age is hitting Americans where it hurts.
Mr. and Mrs. American Spectator Reader, let P.J. O’Rourke talk sense to your kids.
In Britain, defending your property can get you life.
The debacle of this president’s administration is both a cause and a symptom of the decline of American values. Unless Congress impeaches him, that decline will go on unchecked. An eminent jurist surveys the damage and assesses the chances for the recovery of our culture.
It won’t take long for conservatives to scratch this presidential wannabe off their 2008 scorecard.
The American Christmas, like the songs that celebrate it, makes room for everybody under the rainbow. Is that why so many people seem to be hostile to it?
Was the President done in by the economy, or by the politics of the economy?