Is it Noonan or is it Not?
What I worry most about is what happens when we, this America, this land that purports to be about freedom, sends people back to a hateful land, back to those who hate us, hate freedom, hate the very Sunday morning show I am on now—and George, you know I mean nothing by that. (Let’s enjoy a good laugh). You know, George, George Bush, himself, was ridiculed—so, so ridiculed. I hurt when he did—for talking about the "folks" who hate our way of life. They did, they do, and now they will be joined by more— five more, to be exact, my sources tell me—who will tell these freedom haters about American culture, American food, American sexual morals and frustrations and depravity, about American women who yearn for equality, desire, NEED for … well, I think you know what I’m getting at. We hate Phil Robertson, we love compromise. He, who has the most American of beards. Why do we hate him, a man who loves the spirit in all of us, who loves ducks and entrepreneurship? How can I do anything but wring my hands on this Sunday morning and wonder, “Qu'est-ce que c'est?” Yes, a cloud, not cumulonimbus, but a Cirrus, mean-looking, deceptive, hangs overheard. Oh, yes, there is light streaming through—An American comes home. Yay!—but the cloud remains, moving, gathering energy and admirers. We need umbrellas, we need a plan, we need a leader, for surely it will rain on this president, this man who spoke without a tie (Reagan never would) when announcing the release of this bearded one, this [air quote] hero, whose own father looks so much like them, a dreaded them, evil and bearded. We Americans need to be strong—or we grieve together--lest all our beards look like the beards on those folks who hate us.