[img]1|left|Ari Noonan||no_popup[/img]Every Saturday, Chuckie (I Wish I Had Been Born White) Blow writes a sickening essay on envy — envy of the ambitious on the right — in The New York Times.
He is one of those dead-in-the-water brainwashed blackliberals (yes, one word) whom Herman Cain admirably labeled several months ago.
Mr. Blow arises every morning from the left side of his empty bed (I told he is a liberal) and cries out, “I am a victim.”
Most liberals practice the identical ritual. Partially employed philosophers, they have ample time to ruminate and gripe but not to work.
Mr. Blow is not a hard worker mentally or physically, which is why he has so much time to express his envy of those of us who labor for a living.
The most common theme of his tiresome, disgusting but influential essays (because they are in the Times) is to complain that he and other liberal blacks are inconsolable victims of conservatives who are racial bigots with more money than he has because they work for a living.
Mr. Blow, who inherited a huge anger gene, long ago joined the journalistic whores on the left who cry “unfair” when someone on the right earns more because, well, he actually toils for a living. He doesn’t cry or kvetch as you do, Chuckie, my friend.
My Turn to be Pathetic
What a small, unfulfilling life he leads. Inspired by Swish O-bomb-a’s bitter class warfare campaign, Mr. Blow believes the wealth of those of us who work deserves to be redistributed among his shiftless ilk. His teeth will blind you when he bares his jealous fangs.
Anti-ambitious slugs like Mr. Blow study their record of working failure and then shrewdly denounce those of us who decline to support them. They sit on the curb and weep about another Obama devil — income inequality. Check out the record. Swishy and Mad Michelle, as a couple, have given less charity throughout their marriage than stillborn babies. They have elevated stinginess above charity.
I Am Uncreative and Stuck
Mr. Blow, who may have matriculated at the Bass University of Insight, ignorantly concludes, “Income inequality is a threat to this country and the middle class that made her great.”
But here is Mr. Blow’s rationalization for remaining uneducated, broke and most importantly, angry:
“Pew has found,” he writes, “that most children raised at the top of the income spectrum stay there and most raised at the bottom stay there.”
The best bet of the decade was that the lazy leftward journalists of our country — too indolent to reason, so they wiggle their ears and mock like schoolboys — would burn because Mitt Romney is well off.
Mr. Romney earned his wealth, minded his business, loved his wife, raised his children to be models for America — not kevtchy wannabees begging for handouts.
Tell me, Chuckie Blow: If the Democrats, to whom you have pledged your life and loyalty, have been so darned generous to you wannabees in the80 years since your hero FDR took office, how come you are standing in the gutter, in sludge up to your knees still begging for my money to put in your pocket.
You tell me, Swishy tells me and an army of left-wing journalistic whores tell me daily that the Democrats are the party, the savior, the daddy, of the non-working “middle (or is it muddle) class.”
So tell me, pal, after 80 years of handouts, are you better off? You have to look for work. An employer isn’t going to track you to your couch on his GPS. That is the contract, pal.
(Please don’t mention that your hero, the laziest, most disengaged President of modern times, is raising a billion dollars for his re-election campaign.)
One of Mr. Blow’s precious pearls in last Saturday’s essay read:
“Income inequality is a threat to this country and the middle class that made her great.”
Taking his cue from a disengaged President who has preached class warfare since launching his re-election campaign last April, Mr. Blow uses the lie about gap as his excuse for not working.
Sorry, Charlie.
If the class warfare President is ousted in November, you will be on your own. My wealth will stay with me, and you will have to forage for yourself.
