If a Rose Is a Rose, Doesn’t That Make Illegal Aliens Counterfeit?

Even if they are counterfeit immigrants, who doesn’t admire illegals shrewd enough to hijack the People’s Mayor, William Shakespeare Villaraigosa, on his way to LAX, delaying his 478th junket?

What check-coated cad would not admire a mayor who was running away from still another wonderful Sunday afternoon at home before the hearth with his wife (?) and children?

Aren’t there cheaters out there in Newspaperland, besides the dethroned Kweisi Mfume, who will salute kidnappers for thwarting a mayor who possibly was en route to a tryst to create his third out-of-wedlock child?

Quid Pro Quo — Si?

What patriotic American would not admire a mayor who stands supportively before a cozy crowd of illegal aliens who helped put him into office 2 years ago?

What proud American did not have chills sprinting north and south on his spine yesterday afternoon when “I am the mayor of all people, lawbreakers and law-abiding, I see no difference” — addressed the illegals in his and their native language, Spanish?

Mayor Aims Low Again

What does it say about the wobbly character of a frequently balonified mayor when he tells the illegals — in their native tongue, of course — that “my proudest moment as mayor of Los Angeles” was participating in last year’s tribute to illegal aliens?

The mayor did say, “To hell with the law,” didn’t he?

Gazing longingly upon the beautiful sight, how many red-white-and-blue-blooded Americans resisted the urge to break into a chorus of “God Bless America” for fear the illegals (and maybe the mayor) wouldn’t know what the heck they were singing?

Just Among Us Lawbreakers

Wasn’t Sunday a special day for a certain band of brothers?

To wit: Throughout California, was there a single bearded, shaved-headed, hardened criminal in any state prison who didn’t develop a tear in his heart when he heard the mayor, in Spanish, encouraging the cheering illegals to continue to defy the law?

Lives there a lover of traditionally objective news coverage (T.O.N.C.) who could espy the weeniest, teeniest fault with the embarrassing slants this morning by the Los Angeles Times?

An Illegal Rose by Any Name

Would any perceptive reader dare blame the partisan reporters for scrupulously and favorably referring to the illegal aliens as “undocumented immigrants”?

Lives there a lover of T.O.N.C. who would dare criticize Times’ reporters Anna, Baby, and Tami, Baby, for refusing to call the illegal immigrants illegal immigrants? Talk about sending girls to do a man’s job.

A Cup of Water, Girls?

Can we presume the girls were nervous among all of those illegals?

Is that why they erred on the side of incaution, inflating the crowd of two or three thousand to “nearly 5,000.” Equally, an imaginative person could say that at our First Seder for Passover one week from tonight, Diane and I also are expecting “nearly 5,000.” The present guest list, however, stops at 7. Anna, Baby, and Tami, Baby, are not invited.

Are They Going into Closet?

Where next will our cleverly masked friends — who aren’t old enough or sufficiently sharp in English to remember the original masked man, the Lone Ranger — assemble the next time?

A Main Street broom closet — in order to be walking distance from the Bus Station when a sensible judge deports them?