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Published: October 12, 2008
The political season and Halloween are on a collision course, and if ugly were gold, we'd all be rich.
Walk by any media corner in America and you'll find a group of attack dogs, waiting around for their daily ration of political hambones. Talking heads, or airway lords, who espouse certain political points of view are holding court, otherwise known as the daily ritual. They've rummaged through the political garbage cans of America and latched onto a hot gotcha kernel, the mother's milk for their daily hambone ritual.
Religiously, the rush-to-judge attack dogs amen their airway lords, as their favorite ritualistic airway pimps, ratchet up the rhetoric. The attack dogs bark, growl, snarl and stand on their hind legs licking their chops in anticipation of receiving their very own political hambone. One by one, with hambone firmly locked in their jaw, the political pit bulls scamper back to their respective neighborhoods. It is there they perform their Paul Revere impersonation, parroting political bravado to their families, their neighbors, their friends and anyone else who'll listen.
Woe be to those who refuse to participate in this personal hambone ritual, or do something hamboneish, like question the airway Gestapo, or refuse to praise the airway Lords. These are the kind of hamboneish acts that fall under the headline of unpatriotic, irrespective of your political persuasion.
These holier-than-thou airway lords ignore reality; squelch the voice of reason and each day spin a fresh gotcha kernel into a new and better hambone. The attack dogs are hypnotized by these daily hambone rituals; its become a way of life for the "please-think-for-me" attack dog, who prefers a manipulated, manufactured and massaged hambone, over a spoon full of unbiased self researched reliable information.
Blinded by monetary motivations, the airway lords don't have a clue as to what they're doing to the fabric of our society, more specifically, my children and grandchildren. They're only interested in ratings, and let me confess, I've been guilty of some of the same hamboneish things I just alluded to.
However, I've come to realize our 14 grandchildren deserve something better than a hambone-carrying grandparent, who participates in hamboneish political rituals. My grandfather didn't have nor need one, and we shouldn't either. So with all due respect, and for the betterment of each of us, our families, our neighborhoods and our country, I would like to suggest we consider returning the hambone to the receptacle from which it came; the political garbage can.
Jim Gries
Weeki Wachee
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