It started out innocuously enough. A friend posted a link to Gail Collins' column skewering Newt Gingrich, whose patriotism apparently caused his infidelity ("The Framers made me do it?")
A couple of "likes" a nondescript favorable comment, and then it happened. A winger jumps in with
Gee...I didn't realize the libs are so pure mmmmm...Teddy K
I jump in and we exchange a couple of predictable comments, me about the Newtster's hypocrisy, and he listing D's that have had zipper problems. It shouldn't have been a biggie, and perhaps I should have walked away. But I read his name, first and last, and it was unmistakeably Irish. Jaysus, Mary and Joseph! Maybe I shouldn't have, but I went there.
Perhaps your people are from the North. Or perhaps you've forgotten about your roots.
But this time of year I am reminded that any son of the sod who would support those whose policies would leave the common man naught but an indentured servant, left to eat the grass or starve at the will of the corporate landlord for whom provisions are plentiful and shipped away for profit, is pissing on his ancestors' graves.
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