by Tom Griffin
Staff writer

It is fitting that every four years the U.S. Presidential campaign should, as if by design and with perfect synchronicity, coincide with the Olympic Games. Competition lies at the heart of both events. The Olympic Games are, at the core, an embodiment of ancient tradition and reflect the virility of a much healthier, bygone era. The presidential race, on the other hand, is clearly more asinine and reeks of its own foul wretchedness.

Behold, the democrat! Obliged to witness the whole of this orchestrated absurdity, we see both Bush and Kerry (unlike the cool, calm pace of the Olympic torchbearers) approaching the final stretch of their campaign at breakneck speed – sprinting at near feverish paces, haphazardly blowing kisses to and fro, “Vote for me!” they plead, kissing baby after baby, promising the moon to potential benefactors, and always with a moistened finger to the wind, gauging the direction of public sentiment (something always kept in check by the manipulators of public opinion) and always, of course, echoing the same – as both presidential contenders hightail it towards the finish line. “Remember to vote for me!”

A spectre is haunting America — the spectre of democracy! We are in the midst of a voting craze. Who is not caught up in the latest television hysteria over who is getting voted off of which reality show, or which final farwell of what sitcom is being voted for as an all-time couch potato favorite, or who will vote for which idol in the..? Enough! Enough of this voting monomania!

Common sense and logic dictate that there is no such thing as “the collective wisdom of the voters.” This is a myth, just like everything else hoisted upon us by our misleaders. It insults our intelligence! The truth about democracy is simple: it is a delusive formality. Beware of democrats bearing ballots, I say! Let us review what has been written concerning this ridiculous form of government. Consider these words…

“It is always one sole concern which impels men to set up new programs or to change existing ones: concern for the next election. As soon as it dawns on these parliamentary jugglers that the beloved people are again revolting and would like to slip out of the harness of the old party cart, they begin to repaint the shafts…

And so the commissions come together and revise the old program and frame a new one, and in so doing the gentlemen change their convictions as a soldier in the field changes his shirt, which is when the old one is full of lice, and in which everybody gets his share…

Then anything there is room for is patched in with the greatest haste, until the framers can hope with a clear conscience that the army of run-of-the-mill petty bourgeois with their women have been pacified and are simply delighted. Thus inwardly armed with confidence in God and the unshakable stupidity of the voting citizenry, the politicians can begin the fight for the ‘remaking’ of the Reich as they call it…

Led by their press and dazzled by a new and alluring program, the bourgeois as well as the proletarian voting cattle return to the common stable and again vote for their old misleaders…

Thus, the man of the people and the candidate of the working classes turns himself back into the parliamentary caterpillar and again fattens on the foilage of state life, and again after four years turns back into a gleaming butterfly…

There is scarcely anything more depressing than to observe this whole process in the light of sober reality, to be obliged to witness this constantly repeated deception…” - excerpts from Mein Kampf, Volume 2, Chapter 1.

These immortal words need no postscript. Just savor them and reflect upon their wisdom. Print them out and carry them with you – to quote from, when, behold! the democrat, a beaming citizen, sporting a proud “I voted” sticker on his shirt, angrily chastises you for “not participating” and for being “part of the problem.”

Recite these words for him and observe the reaction they elicit. If he is halfway conscious, they should stop him in his tracks. Then watch as a thoughtful, toothy grin gradually envelops his face as he considers their merits. He’ll nod his head, complimenting their clever, incisive perception. Now, shatter his world and reveal to him the author.

If he’s an impermeable oaf, as you’re expecting, destined to forever champion the power of the people’s vote, his grin will quickly melt away revealing pure, unadulterated horror as he realizes he has just been bamboozled by the very words of the Devil himself. Then, like an anxious standard bearer securely fastened once more in the comfort of his old party cart, he’ll promptly excuse himself and, as surely as an Olympic sprinter, make for the horizon as if a pack of hungry wolves are fast upon his heels!

Behold, the democrat!