I Am Not, Thank God, George Soros

It would appear that the DNC has me confused with George Soros. I don’t know why this would be. For one thing, he was born in Hungary and I was born in Chicago, so we sound nothing alike. For another thing, he has a full head of hair and I only have a cute little fringe around my ears. He’s a billionaire and I am only just getting by. And, finally, I am sane and he’s as crazy as a proverbial bedbug.

But obviously something has gone haywire at Ground Zero of the loony Left. During the past week or so, Frank Lautenberg, Jason Rosenbaum, Dick Durbin and Ted Kennedy’s dipstick son, Patrick, have all sent me messages, urging me to donate money to help them defeat the GOP.

He's not Burt!

He’s not Burt!

If I failed to kick in, the following are just a few of the dire scenarios they warned me would more than likely take place: The Republicans would dismantle ObamaCare; prevent the re-election of such party stalwarts as Elizabeth Warren and Tim Kaine; take control of the U.S. Senate; and, egad, prevent the Democrats from excising the 2nd Amendment from the Constitution!

As amusing as I found the notion that I would donate even a farthing to the Party of Obama, Pelosi and Reid, the frightening thing is that there are millions of Americans, people who actually get to vote, work in the media and teach in our schools, who receive the same requests and immediately sit down and write a check.

What is going through their minds? Who are these blockheads who, even in this miserable economy, are willing to spend their hard-earned dollars to help the current administration shove ObamaCare down our throats and disarm law-abiding citizens?

Perhaps the topper is that these people are so desperate that they even stooped to using Patrick Kennedy as one of their shills. Even though you would have to be a member of the Kennedy clan in order to state “My father and uncles fought to build a society that takes care of the least among us,” how pathetic that the Party would utilize a schmuck who has been addicted to cocaine, booze and prescription drugs, for most of his adult life; would have been in jail several times for drunk driving and assault if the Kennedy money and influence hadn’t been at his beck and call; and even been asked to refrain from taking Holy Communion by his bishop because of his pro-abortion stance as a congressman. This lump has also been known to brag that he’s never worked a day in his life. I guess in that family the fruit doesn’t fall too far from the tree.

By this time, even with Patrick Kennedy gone, you can’t really expect much from Congress. But even I was flabbergasted by the inability of the Super Committee to cut a pathetic trillion and a half dollars in spending. But unlike the dimwits who blamed the six Republicans on the Committee for the impasse, I blame Obama and his stooges in the House and Senate. It was the Democrats, after all, who insisted that no cuts would be made without the Republicans agreeing to raise taxes. I must confess that every time I heard that demand, I would rush to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. Had I heard right? Surely, my aging ears must have been playing tricks. Or, perhaps, as usual, I had dozed off while listening to Sen. Patty Murray prattle away, doing her inimitable impression of ditzy Barbara Boxer.

On the other hand, I never heard a Republican Committee member say what I kept thinking: If our mission is to cut federal spending, why would we simultaneously consider raising taxes? Isn’t that contradictory? How is that any different from someone on the second floor announcing that he’s going downstairs to answer the phone, but instead ascending to the attic?

Finally, there are millions of people in this country who agree with Obama and the rabble who constitute the Occupy Wall Street movement. They resent rich people. In Obama’s case, he only resents rich people who don’t kick in to his re-election war chest. But even he, who is a multi-millionaire, believes that other wealthy people should hand over their money to the poor. And not in the form of charity, which has always been the American way, but through taxation and federal redistribution.

There are several reasons why this should be abhorrent to everyone. For one thing, an awful lot of poor people are leeches. They don’t work even when jobs are readily available. And when they’re given money, food stamps and housing, they aren’t even grateful. They regard it as their due.

For another thing, the weaponry used in class warfare is envy, which, along with its Siamese twin, self-pity, are the two most loathsome human emotions. Those who have less than others are told that the only reason for the imbalance is that they’ve been cheated. It has nothing to do with their sloth, ignorance and lack of initiative, everything to do with a system that allows the rich to steal what is rightfully theirs.

The folks behind the perpetration of the big lie are politicians, journalists, academics and those in the movie and TV business who invariably portray the poor as noble creatures. The truth is, there is nothing noble about poverty, especially not in America, where, thanks to limitless opportunities to improve one’s lot, it is probably more difficult to remain poor for more than a single generation than it is to become wealthy.

Thomas Edison once observed in pre-inflationary times: “From his neck down, a man is worth a couple of dollars a day; from his neck up, he is worth anything his brain can produce.”

And while we can’t all invent the electric light bulb, it behooves every one of us to get off our backsides and quit cursing the darkness.

©2011 Burt Prelutsky. Comments? Write BurtPrelutsky@aol.com!
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Author Bio:

Burt Prelutsky, a very nice person once you get to know him, has been a humor columnist for the L.A. Times and a movie critic for Los Angeles magazine. As a freelancer, he has written for the New York Times, Washington Times, TV Guide, Modern Maturity, Emmy, Holiday, American Film, and Sports Illustrated. For television, he has written for Dragnet, McMillan & Wife, MASH, Mary Tyler Moore, Rhoda, Bob Newhart, Family Ties, Dr. Quinn and Diagnosis Murder. In addition, he has written a batch of terrific TV movies. View Burt’s IMDB profile. Talk about being well-rounded, he plays tennis and poker... and rarely cheats at either. He lives in the San Fernando Valley, where he takes his marching orders from a wife named Yvonne and a dog named Angel.
Author website: http://www.burtprelutsky.com/
  • Gena Taylor

    Mr. Burt, enjoyed your article as usual. I was in a kinda (very) lousy mood, was just going through the titles, saw the title to this one and had to go on and read it, and, as I thought it would do, it lifted my spirits. Thank you. BTW – I do think the bug that best fits Soros is a tick, not a bedbug, in my humble opinion.

  • Burt Prelutsky

    Mike: If I were George Soros, I could afford to make it worth your while to read my ravings…and I could do the same for Glen.


    • Mike Jackson

      That’s probably true, so if you ever win the lotto and change your name to George Soros, I’ll send you my address.
      Then again, I already have a rich and talented name myself. The thing is, I’m a 50+ y.o, 6 foot tall, 200 pound white guy with short brown hair and blue eyes. I only sing in church (and that ain’t often!) :)
      And yes, that’s the name my parents gave me.

  • Mike Jackson

    If you were George Soros, I would have stopped reading at the byline had I gotten that far.

  • Glen Stambaugh

    Burt, I openned my wallet the other day to see how many “farthings” were in it. I’m still in shock not to find a single farthing! Love it, you crack me up! Glen

  • Burt Prelutsky

    Amen, CCNV.


  • CCNV

    Yes, thank God!!