The android president
By Vin Suprynowicz
I experienced one of those minor epiphanies as I grabbed lunch at the local Kentucky Fried Chicken this week. The owner of the franchise is public-spirited enough (savvy enough about public relations?) to co-sponsor a regular "student of the month" luncheon at the local elementary school.
The students express their gratitude by supplying to the restaurant monthly sheets of poster paper, emblazoned "Student of the Month" and "Thank You K.F.C.," which the restaurateur proudly hangs in his little dining area. The posters bear multiple color snapshots of the kids eating their KFC box lunches at school, and proudly displaying their "Student of the Month" certificates and bumper stickers.
Children of the customers. Smart.
But as I sat reading the children's exotic names -- Demetrius, Kinchasa, Lowanda, Sequoia, written in many different colors of felt pen -- I noticed that all were printed in the same flowing hand. The children had not been judged capable of signing their own thank-you notes. Their teacher had done it for them.
Then I began to look more closely at the photographs, puzzling at how difficult it was to determine which of the many children pictured had actually been named "student of the month."
And that's when it hit me.
In a classic manifestation of the modern "self-esteem" movement, no one in our current educational establishment would conceive of allowing 97 percent of those kids to feel badly for 30 days because they hadn't been named "student of the month." So all the students who attend each luncheon are named "student of the month." The photos show lineups of three, four, six children at a time, all proudly showing off their identical, mass-produced certificates and bumperstickers declaring "My Child is a Student of the Month at Madison Elementary."
Now, it may seem a stretch to relate this kind of "well-meaning" flim-flammery, this systematic erosion of reality-based competition and thus of the opportunity to ever be honored for any real individual achievement, to the current astonishing collapse of the Clinton presidency.
But I believe they are, at heart, manifestations of the same decadence
-- a word which I use fairly carefully to mean not just accidental decay,
but a willful rejection of old, proven values and methods, replacing
them under the guise of being "progressive" with a topsy-turvy,
derivative celebration of everything that is false, affected, and rebellious
against the truths of man's nature, so painstakingly handed down to
us over the past 5 000 years.
What we -- and the other characters -- had thought to be a fellow human is thus revealed to be a mere simulacrum, an android, a pre-programmed robot masterfully engineered to appear and act as a man, and then infiltrated among the living as part of some nefarious, ulterior scheme.
Education rears disciples, imitators, and routinists,
not pioneers of new ideas and creative geniuses. The schools are not
nurseries of progress and improvement, but conservatories of tradition
and unvarying modes of thought.
For real horror, the movies with cockroaches the size of Greyhound buses can hardly compete with films which start to convince us that -- just maybe -- many of our neighbors are actually alien automatons, programmed to make us think they share our thoughts and feelings, but actually incapable of feeling the slightest sympathy or compassion for us "weak, waterbag organisms," instead hiding some secret, revolting, and finally unknowable agenda of the alien hive.
Some of us have realized for years that Bill Clinton and every other progressive/redistributionist politician lies continually and as a matter of course -- patting the head of some prop urchin from central casting as they justify one expansion after another of their voracious, armed police state by citing "the safety of the chiiiildren." It's therefore hard for us to understand the wide-eyed horror with which those who have long and willfully suspended disbelief in order to worship at the altar of such fake "compassion" found themselves viewing the Clinton "Apology-thon" of September 10 through 12, 1998.
Finally convinced by his staff that his televised "apology to the nation" of August 17 had been inadequate, President Clinton simply blew a fuse and decided to go out on the road, spitefully apologizing again and again -- each apology a slight variation on the developing theme -- until he got it right.
And so, over and over again, in public and on cue, he developed a catch
in his voice, wiped away a tear, bit his lip, and said how remorseful
he felt. Over and over again. On cue. Like a faulty robot whose operator
keeps making slight adjustments and then hitting the "re-start"
button, forgetting the curtain is still up, and the whole horrified
audience can now see all the wires and circuits and servo-motors exposed.
Bill Clinton is seen leaving the memorial service, laughing and joking
with a companion. In a flash, however, he spots the rolling camera,
develops an instant expression of sadness, and wipes a tear from one
But if you've just figured out that much, get ready for the real shocker, because it's not just Bill Clinton. Why do you think those "public approval polls" are still up there near 65 percent?
After 30-odd years of "progressive" government schooling, America has raised two whole generations of emotionally hollow automatons just like this guy.
How did the pod people take over while you weren't looking? It's the government schools, stupid.
Vin Suprynowicz is the assistant editorial page editor of the Las Vegas Review-Journal. Readers may contact him via e-mail at email@example.com.
© 1996-2013, Enter Stage Right and/or its creators. All rights reserved.