What Did You Expect? Kissy Face? - Donald Trump Loose In LA

Progressives are howling.  The governor of California and the Mayor of Los Angeles are refusing to collaborate with federal forces sent by Trump to quell the riots and are defending their right to create and protect sanctuary cities. These 'peaceful, patriotic asylees', happy to be finally free from persecution and oppression, are only demonstrating their newfound freedom of expression and defying the very same tyranny from which they fled. 'We will not give in.  'La lucha continua', the Governor shouted to a crowd gathered around the State House in Sacramento.  

 

Donald Trump, not surprisingly, was unbowed and tore into Newsom, Mayor Bass and 'the savage animals' rampaging wildly down Sunset Boulevard.  The Marines were notified, deployed, and ready to travel to Los Angeles to restore order.  His Border Czar, Tom Homan, stood defiantly before the bank of microphones and channeled Winston Churchill in his defiant speech in World War II - 'Never give in, never, never, never, never. In nothing great or small, large or petty'. 

 

There was no give in the President's words, no fig leaf, no suggestion of conciliation or of commiseration.  The 'creatures' in downtown LA were rioters, not protesters, beasts of some jungle somewhere, coming out of lairs and dens for red meat, looting, defacing, destroying in a savage, primitive mission to kill.  If it took a thousand troops or ten thousand, these animals would be caught, trapped, caged, and sent back to the stinking rot from which they came. 

It didn't have to be this way, explained the White House Press Secretary.  Our country is open to all if they come properly, legally, and respectfully. An open border - the febrile, demented dream of our predecessor she explained - is tantamount to emptying the sinkholes of the world and welcoming everyone in them to come on over. Think about it, she said, and displayed images of the slums of Lagos, teeming, fetid, refuse-strewn places. Do you want our country to look like this?

The legacy media were speechless and sputtered incoherent questions at her.  They were apoplectic at her racist, horrific dismissal of the good people of Africa and all the desperate peoples of the world who only wanted asylum and a refuge for poverty, misery, and hopelessness.  They stammered, choked, turned red in the face, and shook their fists at the podium, but the Press Secretary was unmoved, as stolid and resolute as the President.  'Thank you all very much', she said, and left the room. 

The crowd of reporters looked at each other dazed and confused, stunned by the absolute indignity of what they had heard. 'How could she....How dare she...? but the cries turned to buzzing and then died out as the room emptied. 

Meanwhile Americans watching the mayhem on television - the trashing and burning of cars, the rocks thrown at police, the looting of stores and shops, the flames, the smoke, the half-naked, masked men on top of police cruisers waving Mexican flags - shook their heads in disbelief and cheered the phalanxes of military cadres moving in to stop the violence.

 

The Governor of California wrote his own political death sentence when he described the riots as peaceful protests, that the right of asylum was inviolable, and that the blood, sweat and tears of immigrants have always been at the heart of the American story.  On screens everywhere, the idiocy, and the barefaced presumptuousness of the man were laid bare. Shown side by side with the chaos on the streets, his words seemed even more ignorant, self-serving, and irrelevant. 

Bob Muzelle, a lifelong progressive and veteran of race wars in the past was convinced that this show of determination and resolve by Latin American asylees would pay dividends. 'Remember Watts', he said, the Los Angeles inner city neighborhood which erupted in flames in the same wild savagery as seen today.  'The black man, long oppressed by systemic white racism had no recourse but to express himself forcefully'

But of course the riots in Watts, Detroit, and Newark were nothing but rampages.  Rioters burned down their own neighborhoods, looted their own stores, trashed their own cars.  Nothing showed absolute, irreconcilable ignorance of the inner city more than that wanton, feral destruction. 

Furthermore nothing divided America like those riots, armed both sides, hardened prejudice and hate, and resulted in decades of racial divisiveness.  The Left did its best to put a positive spin on Watts and deferred to, coddled, lionized, and loved the black man despite his long years of social immobility.  The riots accomplished absolutely nothing, but left the city in ruins and the polity of America shattered. 

Bob, of course, did not see things that way.  He, imbued with a passionate, indissoluble belief in a better world, saw the plight of the underserved, the put-upon, the oppressed as a spiritual message.  'We are One World', he often said, 'one harmonious, generous, forgiving, hopeful world of peace and prosperity', words that were replayed many times during the LA riots - vain, fanciful, fantastically idealistic notions without a shred of historical reference. 

So the loons in progressive Washington either kept quiet about the happenings in Los Angeles, hoping that their silence would be seen as censure; or harped on from dais to pulpit about Trump's Hitlerian putsch.  

'The man has never more displayed his incontinent evil, his harrowing dismissal of probity and good will, his hateful, racist intentions, his ignorance, moral brutality, and absolute, scurrilous leadership', said Bob in a guest Sunday sermon at the Westover United Church of Christ in a close-in suburb of Washington, a congregation who came to services not to hear the word of Christ, but the progressive screeds of activists like Bob Muzelle. 

Every congregant nodded in approval, or shook their heads in dismay. Many looked out at the giant rainbow flag on the front lawn which fluttered in the June breeze, and cast a flickering shadow on the glassed-in monument where the words 'Hate has no home here', were written. 

Yet these socio-religious enclaves were fewer and fewer as the divisive, corrosive diversity movement was quickly dispersed.  Ability, talent, ambition, opportunity, and faith were the only criteria for success in America as they always had been, and fewer people were willing to sit and listen to nostrums and old chestnuts from progressive alte kockers like Bob.  Times had changed, and as if the penumbra of the Left had suddenly lifted, many finally saw the world clearly - a promising, competitive place without compromise and without false deference. 

So the chatter outside the church was about the insensate rebellious, destruction in Los Angeles, and not a voice was raised to praise the asylee, the refuge-seeker, the oppressed migrant. 

Although most of these tony Washington liberals would never ever praise anything that Donald Trump ever said or did, they quietly and privately cheered the deployment of troops, police, SWAT teams, and ICE platoons.  Perhaps it was the waving of Mexican flags by rioters that nettled. We are here in America to stay and will not be deported to Mexico, they said, while waving their native land's Old Glory.  Having it both ways, destroying the country you supposedly love while singing the praises of the shithole you left, was what got under the skin of the Westover Church's faithful. 

So Trump, unbothered by the predictable progressive twaddle, as determined as ever to show the country that law and order were the ethos of the land, and ferociously committed to ridding the country of the unwanted millions of illegal aliens let in by the old fool who just a few months ago stumbled his way back to Delaware, was in his element.

This was it.  This was his moment to stand tall and proud.  Don't fuck with me, bitch, he shouted at Gavin Newsom, and when the smoke clears there will be only one winner.