The biker jumped into the cage and hit the lion square on the nose with a powerful punch. Whimpering from the pain, the lion jumped back, letting go of the girl, and the biker brought her to her terrified parents, who thanked him endlessly.

A reporter from the The New York Times was at the zoo, and he had watched the whole event and approached the biker.

The reporter said, “Sir, this was the most brave and gallant thing I saw a man do in my whole life.”

The biker replied, “Why, it was nothing, really, the lion was behind bars. I just saw this little kid in danger, and I just acted instinctively.”

The reporter said, “Well, I’m a journalist from The New York Times, and tomorrow’s paper will have this story on the front page… Among the many questions he asked the biker, he asked, ”What do you do for a living and what political party do you most identify with?”

The biker replied, “I’m a U.S. Marine and I am a Republican.”

The following morning the biker bought The New York Times to see if it indeed brought news of his actions, and reads, on the front page: U.S. MARINE ASSAULTS AFRICAN IMMIGRANT AND STEALS HIS LUNCH!

Father must I go to work?
 No, my lucky son.
We’re living now on Easy Street.
 On dough from Washington.

We’ve left it up to Uncle Sam,
 So don’t get excercised.
Nobody has to give a damn–
 We’ve all been subsidized.

Photo of Pres. Truman and Pres. Obama. The more things change...the more they stay the same.

But if Sam treats us all too well
 And feeds us milk and honey,
Please, daddy, tell me what the hell
 He’s going to use for money.

Don’t worry, bub, there’s not a hitch
 In this here noble plan–
He simply soaks the filthy rich
 And helps the common man.

But, father, won’t there come a time
 When they run out of cash
And we have left them not a dime
 When things will go to smash?

My faith in you is shrinking, son,
 You nosy little brat;
You do too damn much thinking, son,
 To be a Democrat.

While the preceding is applicable in the class warfare President Obama and congressional Democrats are currently engaging in, take heart in noting it was entered into the Congressional Record in November  of 1949 by Representative Clarence J. Brown (R-OH). It seems the Democrats’ free-spending ways, general fiscal irresponsibility, and class-warfare tactics have deep roots.

Click here to view a PDF of the poem and report of it being in the Congressional Record from the November 4, 1949 New York Daily News.

Irreverent View would like to thank John Foster of Tampa for sharing the Daily News article.

Chris Ingram is the president and founder of 411 Communications a corporate and political communications firm, and publisher of Irreverent View. Ingram is a frequent pundit on Fox News and CNN, and has written opinion columns for the Washington Times, UPI, and National Review online. He is the Republican political analyst for Bay News 9, the only 24 hour all news channel in Florida’s largest media market. The opinions expressed here are those of author and do not represent the views of Bay News 9. E-mail him at: Chris@IrreverentView.com.

Please feel free to submit a comment on our blogs. By posting a comment you acknowledge reading and following the terms and conditions of posting found here.  You may also submit a comment by e-mail. If you e-mail a comment you consent to your comment and name being posted on the Irreverent View website. If you wish to remain completely anonymous, please state so in your e-mail.

An old American Indian from Arizona when told of the government’s reason for implementing Daylight Savings Times, once observed, “Only the government would believe that you could cut a foot off the top of a blanket, sew it to the bottom of the same blanket, and have a longer blanket.”

A vehicle at 15 mpg and 12,000 miles per year uses 800 gallons a year of gasoline.

A vehicle at 25 mpg and 12,000 miles per year uses 480 gallons a year. So, the average clunker transaction will reduce US gasoline consumption by 320 gallons per year.

They claim 700,000 vehicles so that’s 224 million gallons/year.

That equates to a bit over 5 million barrels of oil.

5 million barrels of oil is about of one day’s US consumption.

And, 5 million barrels of oil costs about $350million dollars at $75/bbl.

So, we all contributed to spending $3 billion to save $350 million.

How good a deal was that?

 They’ll probably do a great job with health care though!

Press Release April 14, 2009
Contact: Chris Ingram (813) 951-2977

Charlie Crist for Senate can be bought!

(Tampa, Fla.) — Strategic Solutions of Florida, a Tampa-based corporate and political consulting firm has put up for auction on E-bay the website domain www.CharlieCristforSenate.com which the company owns. Bidding starts at just $1.00.

Strategic Solutions will donate the proceeds from the winning bid to the United States Treasury Federal Debt Reduction Account to help pay the nation’s staggering $11 trillion national debt. Florida Governor Charlie Crist recently supported adding $800 billion dollars to the debt when he enthusiastically embraced President Obama’s reckless spending plan under the auspices of “stimulating” the economy.

“Governor Charlie Crist supported President Obama and the liberal Democrat Party’s efforts to ‘stimulate’ the economy with a nearly trillion-dollar spending plan that adds more money to our nation’s staggering federal debt. We felt it was appropriate to do something to help pay down the debt and the additional burden the Crist/Obama/Pelosi spending plan has passed on to future generations,” said Chris Ingram, CEO and partner of Strategic Solutions.

“If every man, woman, and child currently living in the United States had to write a check for their equal share of the $11 Trillion dollar national debt, they would each have to make that check out for $35,000. To demonstrate just how much a trillion dollars is, it would take one person spending $1 million dollars a day, every day for 2,739 years to spend a trillion dollars. At some point our elected officials have to recognize we must address the issue of reckless government spending and get a handle on paying down our nation’s debt obligations which are in large part held by countries like China, and Saudi Arabia, among others” Strategic Solutions’ president April Schiff said.

To review the bidding rules and to make a bid on E-bay go to: http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=320360327539

While not an announced candidate, Governor Crist is believed be considering a run for the U.S. Senate to succeed retiring Senator Mel Martinez. Crist’s lack of an announcement regarding his intentions have caused other Republican candidates who otherwise may have entered the race to put their campaign plans on hold until the governor makes his intentions clear.

If they showed some courage, we think they could beat him.

###

The University of South Florida College of Engineering is known for its foreign professors some more infamous than others (remember Sami Al-Arian?). One constant throughout the program in my day was the faction of Russian math professors who would enthusiastically begin every semester with the hopes of teaching us American students advanced math, only to find that they needed to water down the curriculum after the first exam, or face the administrative consequences of failing an entire class. We always blamed it on how difficult it was to understand their accent or teaching style. The truth is that we just didn’t get it.

One afternoon during a grueling example problem, my Engineering Calculus II professor finally threw up his arms in disgust at our lack of comprehension. The problem required that we determine how fast it takes a man with a rope to pull a bucket of water up to the top of a roof given the height of the roof and how quickly he can pull the bucket. This sounds simple, until you consider the other part of the equation — that the bucket has a hole in the bottom that leaks water at a rate that decreases as the bucket empties, while the rate at which the man pulls the bucket increases as the water leaks out and the bucket become lighter.

Our professor insisted that back home in Russia students worked through similar problems in 7th grade with little difficulty, and that a Russian college class would have been through with the problem and on to five others by now. Then he paused in a moment of revelation. He told us that American students can’t do this problem, but that it doesn’t matter because we would simply rig an expensive, over-designed pump to get the job done. However, Russian students needed to understand this problem because “unfortunately, a man with a rope and an old bucket with a hole is the most common way to get water to the top of a roof in Russia.”

He seemed disheartened, but continued.

Joe Cimino is now a professional engineer specializing in hydro-engineering (seriously). On the job, He has never had to calculate how to hoist a leaking bucket of water up the roof of a building and further concludes using the building’s elevator (as opposed to rigging a pump) would be the simplest way to get a single bucket of water up a building and that the hole in the bucket should be plugged before doing so. Joe lives and works in Tampa, Florida with his wife and two children.

by Debra M. Cole

You’re finally out with a grown man. He’s handsome. He’s fun. He works. He doesn’t have a parole officer and you don’t sense any Norman Bates Mama issues.  He tells you he has children. Alrighty, you like kids so no problem. Whew! Things are looking up. But then the kicker. He’s a Republican! What the *$#@!  

Well this happened to me. Despite that I took a deep breath and things have been great. I’m a well-rounded person and can yammer on about most anything. Finding topics on which to bond wasn’t a problem for us. And political verbiage isn’t a hobby for him like it is for me. Besides, my parents agreed on politics, but couldn’t get along otherwise and got a divorce.

During my very brief starter marriage in the 1990′s, my ex and I were so in-tuned politically we practically finished each other’s sentences.  However, he had relationship challenges with Visa, MasterCard, and the IRS. Also, his condescending tone in reference to my thick accent and the suffer no fools mentality, became unbearable. He was like the starter home with a nice paint job on the exterior, only to realize there’s a shaky foundation underneath. One day I peeled back the impressive, polished Harvard Educated sheetrock and found nothing but wet cardboard. I immediately yelled to the conductor, “Hey Mister, I’ve got to get off this coo coo choo choo train right now!” 

So things are still going well with my Republican manfriend.  We’ve marched along on the path of love with just a few bumps and minor scratches. But then the presidential election came and bam! Conflict! Politics either strengthens the ties that bind or makes you want to stab each other with an ice pick.  And you can’t escape it since it’s in on every channel and in all magazines. After a couple of heated discussions with lots of sarcasm and “How can you think that,” type of remarks.  I panicked. I thought I was in chapter 5 of a Danielle Steele novel swimming in the Atlantic during high tide.  The rough waves of fate, in this case democracy, were going to carry my true love away like “Wilson” in the Tom Hanks movie Castaway.

I spoke with my friends who were in the same predicament. Longtime pal “Carrie” can’t discuss global warming with her husband. While she can recite An Inconvenient Truth word for word, he thinks it’s all hype. Many doors have been slammed and pizza slices have been thrown across the room over the topic. But I don’t want to discount the role of genetics given her Italian heritage, and his second generation Irish Catholic background. Let’s just say their wedding was the party of the century.

A newlywed buddy of mine, “Molly,” was recently having trouble adjusting to matrimony. Molly’s a thirty-something Republican who skipped the starter marriage and waited it out. Having never lived with a man, she’s still getting a handle on the amount of food he consumes and the piles of change on the table, dresser, and kitchen counter.  I assured her that she’s not alone. Millions of women, including my lipstick lesbian pals whose partners forgo the purse, are dealing with the same problem. You put the loot in a box and save for the next vacation. I went on to explain that the husband isn’t like the cat. You can’t just put a bowl out for him and expect it to last 3 days.

Already stressed from the grocery bill, marital bliss took another hit when Molly realized the depth of fondness her husband has for the Democrats. At a party her friends hopped on a tirade and said her man was “economically illiterate” for voting blue. The hubby fired back with a rant on the Bush administration’s failed policies, the growing gap of the rich and poor, and of course Karl Rove is a spawn of Satan. So needless to say the ride home wasn’t so pleasant. The subject came up during courtship, but love is blind and they married before the conventions when the topic was a lukewarm cup of chocolate milk instead of skin scorching black coffee. 

How do couples make this work? Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger and Maria Shriver seem to manage. And political strategists Mary Matalin and James Carville appear to be very happy. I would imagine deep admiration and respect for the other’s beliefs fits into the dynamics, along with having moderate views on many issues. Common values and beliefs must exist for any relationship to succeed.  Obviously, an extreme left wing secular tofu eating, dread-lock wearing socialist, whose best friend is a drag queen, can’t even have coffee with a homophobic, right-wing, bible thumping Christian fundamentalist deer hunter, much less get married.

Like these couples, I focus on the person and how we relate and how they treat others. Besides, people choose candidates with numerous influences outside of logic-socio-economic status, education, region, race, identity, laziness, and family influences to name a few. And for most people, political viewpoint is only one room in the house of character.  So you want search the entire estate because sometimes the décor in the guest bathroom seems out of place with the rest of the house. For instance, I know this Republican pair who routinely launch into self-reliance and pull yourself up by your bootstraps preachy bullshit monologs. But they sure as hell don’t hesitate to ask for money from their parents who paid their college, a down payment on a house, and even a brief stint in rehab.  And worse, when the check comes at the restaurant for some reason their sorry asses are always in the restroom.

On the other side of the aisle, there are northern white liberals who complain about red state racism and politically incorrect chatter. And yet, other than the office or the dry cleaners, they don’t associate with any blacks, Asians, or anyone who isn’t a white middle class Anglo. It’s funny that they will defend vile misogynistic rap lyrics because it’s an expression of culture, and labels, even for children’s sake, are a slippery slope to censorship. However “Jermal” is never invited over for dinner.

I knew some other liberals who had a brief layover in my airport of friendship. They would make disparaging remarks at the very mention of my church choir-directing job. Criticizing all religious thought and expression, in their minds, gave them the corner market on being interesting. The real truth was as I got to know them, they had as much depth as one of those toddler swimming pools that fits on your patio. Much like a politician, they picked a topic to showcase their pseudo-intellect. They should have dusted off a dictionary before pasting liberal to their identity. You know, it’s so annoying when people use words they don’t understand.

More important than finding common ground, the couples I mentioned must have learned to disagree and communicate without getting nasty and resulting to name-calling and insults.  They wouldn’t have made it past the first date otherwise. But then again, shouldn’t all couples learn this? Furthermore, they must enjoy lively discussions and are very secure with themselves as is clearly the case with Schwarzenegger. You’ve got to admire the “Governator” for maintaining his Republicanism after marrying into the Kennedy clan. Talk about balls.  And perhaps the debates and differences are exciting. One can’t underestimate the power of make-up sex.

Whether it’s politics, which movie deserved the Oscar, or where the thermostat should remain, we can count on conflicts, like death and taxes, as part of the human condition. And when we choose friends, mates, associates, car mechanics, and candidates. We all make bargains. We all decide what “baggage” we’re willing to take. And we must also seek understanding and skills to handle problems with the people we didn’t choose-our families.

Any disagreement whether it’s with your mate, mother, or hair dresser, has to be addressed in a respectful manner if you’re sincerely interested in functional relationships, and of course a hair cut that won’t frighten the children.  I say “if” because there are folks out there who create chaos and thrive on drama. We’ve all suffered at their hands either at the Thanksgiving table or on a Judge Judy episode, thanks to our litigious society.  For those of us who seek balance, communication is a never-ending class. There’s always a new chapter that requires greater effort.

I realize it sounds naive, but perhaps congress should invite some psychologists and marriage counselors to the capital for Professional Development Day, as it’s called in the Education world, and read some case studies of successful two-party marriages. They could learn a thing or two about listening, negotiating, and getting past the differences to solve problems for America.  And come January, all of us will have to find a way to get along with the new President.

Debra Cole is a self-professed ‘lefty’ who calls it like she sees it. She was a public school teacher in Georgia for 9 years. Currently, she performs regularly in Atlanta area comedy clubs. She’s known for her sophisticated and smart humor that’s delivered with a seemingly sweet and yet surprising sarcastic Southern Georgia twang. E-mail her at: deblaughs@gmail.com.

As a Florida property owner I have felt like Lou Costello in Abbot and Costello’s famous routine: Who’s on First? Here is what a call to the tax assessor might sounds like given the current scenario:

Bureaucrat: My name is Miss Informed, how may I help you today?
Me: Hello, I’d like to speak to someone about my property taxes.
Bureaucrat: That’s my job.
Me: Great, I’d like to know the name of the person responsible for having to pay taxes
based on property that is tax valued at $200,000 but is assessed by the bank at $100,000
and it is making it impossible to sell it?
Bureaucrat: Who.
Me: Yes, that’s what I want to know, who is responsible?
Bureaucrat: Yes.
Me: Who?
Bureaucrat: Correct.
Me: You work for the state taxing authority?
Bureaucrat: For twenty years.
Me: Who is putting me in the poor house?
Bureaucrat: Yes.
Me: What is the name of the person ruining my life?
Bureaucrat: No, what is thinking up new taxes, fees and assessments.
Me: New taxes! I can’t even pay the old ones. Who is responsible for the fact that my
appraisal and taxable value of my property aren’t even close?
Bureaucrat: Right.
Me: There is nothing right about any of this. What is the name of the guy who wrote the
law that makes my land have a higher taxable than appraised value?
Bureaucrat: Who.
Me: I don’t know.
Bureaucrat: No, he’s working on a plan to make things so bad in Florida that we institute
a state income tax in exchange for eliminating property taxes which will only be eliminated
till we get that income tax and then we’ll start charging property taxes again.
Me: How did we end up talking about a state income tax?
Bureaucrat: You mentioned the name of the man in charge devising the plan.
Me: I did?
Bureaucrat: Yes, you know these officials better than me, you’re just a little mixed up by
their job titles.
Me: Who did you say is working on a state income tax?
Bureaucrat: No, who is responsible for your house not appraising high enough so you can
sell it. Which means your home will most likely end up in foreclosure or you’ll be
working as a bag boy at Publix to pay your property taxes.
Me: What is his name?
Bureaucrat: Who.
Me: The guy responsible for taxable values being so high.
Bureaucrat: Who.
Me: I don’t know.
Bureaucrat: I told you, he’s the guy working on the income tax plan.
Me: Look, I’m being sold a bill of goods and my nest egg is turning to an empty shell. I
have to write a check to the tax collector and who is responsible for putting me in this
position?
Bureaucrat: Exactly.
Me: I can understand him wanting to be anonymous but he’s supposed to be working for
me. I demand you tell me his name!
Bureaucrat: Who.
Me: The guy putting me in the poor house.
Bureaucrat: Who.
Me: What is the name of the guy who designed this cockamamie system?
Bureaucrat: What is the name of the guy thinking up new ways to confiscate your money?
Me: I don’t know.
Bureaucrat: He’s the state income tax guy.
Me: Do you have a supervisor I can speak to?
Bureaucrat: Why.
Me: Because I’m not getting anywhere with you. What is the name of your supervisor?
Bureaucrat: What is not in my department.
Me: Who is in your department?
Bureaucrat: No, he isn’t here either.
Me: The name of your supervisor is?
Bureaucrat: Why.
Me: So I can speak to a higher life form. What is the name of your supervisor?
Bureaucrat: Sir, what is responsible for new taxes.
Me: Greedy politicians!
Bureaucrat: Do you still want to speak to my supervisor.
Me: Yes, and I’d like his or her name!
Bureaucrat: Why.
Me: Because…
Bureaucrat: He’s a lobbyist for the insurance company.
Me: How the hell did we start talking about insurance?
Bureaucrat: You mentioned his name.
Me: Who’s name?
Bureaucrat: Bingo.
Me: Bingo? Ok, let me talk to Bingo.
Bureaucrat: There is no Bingo here. It’s on the Native American reservation because we
felt guilty about taking their land.
Me: Now I’m gambling with the Native Americans. So let me get this straight who is
responsible me not being able to sell my home, what is taxing me more and I don’t know
about a state income tax. Why? Because he’s raising my insurance and you know what?
I’m over it all.
Bureaucrat: Excuse me?
Me: I said, I’m over it all.
Bureaucrat: Oh, he’s speaker of the house.

Mike Matteo is a resident of Tampa, Florida where he was a public and private high school teacher who taught classes in economics, history, psychology and philosophy. Mike has written twenty full-length feature films, has taught screenwriting at the University of South Florida. He has also written or co-authored three books. E-mail him at: writer161@aol.com.

Catherine replied, ‘I would give houses to all the homeless people.’

‘Wow, what a worthy goal you have there, Catherine,’ I told her, while both parents beamed, ‘but, you don’t have to wait until you’re President to help homeless people. You can come over to my house and clean up all of the dog poop in the back yard, and I will pay you $5 dollars. Then, we can go over to the grocery store where the homeless guy hangs out, and you can give him the $5 dollars to use for a new house.’

Catherine, who was about 4, thought that over for a second, and then replied, ‘Why doesn’t the homeless guy come over and clean up the dog poop himself, and you can pay him the $5 dollars?’

I said, ‘Welcome to the Republican Party, Catherine.’ As her befudled parents looked on.

A woman in a hot air balloon realized she was lost. She lowered her altitude and spotted a man in a boat below.

She shouted to him, “Excuse me, can you help me? I promised a friend I would meet him an hour ago, but I don’t know where I am.”

The man consulted his portable GPS and replied, “You’re in a hot air balloon, approximately 30 feet above a ground elevation of 2,346 feet above sea level. You are at 31 degrees, 14. 97 minutes north latitude and 100 degrees, 49. 09 minutes west longitude.”

She rolled her eyes and said, “You must be a Republican.” “I am,” replied the man. “How did you know?” “Well,” answered the balloonist, “everything you told me is technically correct, but I have no idea what to do with your information, and I’m still lost. Frankly, you’ve not been much help to me.”

The man smiled and responded, “You must be a Democrat.”

“I am,” replied the balloonist. “How did you know?”

“Well,” said the man, “You don’t know where you are or where you’re going. You’ve risen to where you are, due to a large quantity of hot air. You made a promise that you have no idea how to keep, and you expect me to solve your problem. You’re in exactly the same position you were in before we met, but, somehow, now it’s my fault.”

Heard a funny joke? Send it to: Chris@IrreverentView.com