Politically Incorrect with the Broken-Down Clock…

Bill Maher on HBO’s Real Time Friday made a statement that will make the Right cheer as the left predictably cringes.

After his guest Brian Levin – the director of the Center for the Study of Hate & Extremism at California State University, San Bernardino – said of the Boston bombings and how it relates to radical Islam, “We have hypocrites across faiths, Jewish, Christian who say they’re out for God and end up doing not so nice things,” Maher marvelously responded, “That’s liberal bulls–t right there”

Arrogance And Condescension Are But Masks To Hide Insecurity

As a country boy with six years of formal schooling, I am hardly the one to question the role of intellectuals in politics; however, after reading an article by Gary Gutting in the New York Times, I am reminded of a university professor who asked me to help him with a mule problem.

I love mules, but you must be careful with a mule, they can kick with lethal force if they feel they have been offended. Since most of my career with horses has been directed more toward sorting out human problems, rather than equine problems, I was a little apprehensive at the prospect of trying to help this professor and his mule. To be honest, professors tend to be among the least capable in matters dealing with animals and simple everyday problems. Problems that men of humble origins and trades can often solve with little or no deliberation, often baffle learned men, who tend to struggle with theory and morality rather than simple and obvious solutions.

Rick Perry’s Cowboy Boots Versus Obama’s Marxist Gum Boots

My intellectual mentors were two of the most unlikely characters you can imagine. They were both immigrants to Peace River Country from Europe. They were both well read and primarily self-taught learned men, who knew the classics and were prepared to argue politics, religion, or literature with any man walking the earth.

Todd or Tadeusz Podbereski, a huge Pole who stood six foot six and weighed well over 300 pounds, was a devout Catholic who brooded over Homer’s Illiad and could recite several of Shakespeare’s plays and most of the bible from memory. He could never resist the opportunity to assume the role of Falstaff, Shakespeare’s irreverent, glutton, bawdy, profane, drunken, mooching, liar monk: he would abandon his thick Polish accent and employ the overly theatrical method of a Shakespearian actor, in country stores and humble cabins, he’d quote passages that pertained to the daily discourse of almost any situation. Even the most stoic and unromantic watched in silent awe as Todd applied his thespian skills to illustrate an obscure point of conversation.