The most disturbing Three Stooges episode was the one where our bumbling heroes portraying failed actors were about to jump off the roof of a building (that's not the disturbing part). Suddenly they were distracted from their endgame plans by the sound of piano music wafting up from somewhere. Following the siren to its source, they discovered a millionaire at the keyboard who just happened to be looking for talent to promote.
The Stooges' act was a hit with the man, and their careers and lives were salvaged. Just as the wealthy benefactor was about to double their salary, two men in white coats entered and each took an arm to escort him back to the insane asylum. The man pouted that he wanted to go back by train. Obligingly, one of the white coats retrieved a toy locomotive from his pocket, to the great delight of the lunatic, who made "choo-choo" noises all the way to the exit.
I hate it when that happens---when I fall for some suave and sophisticated salesman, and in the end he's babbling to himself and tugging at buttonholes for pink elephants. Months of avuncular assurances by President Obama that Middle Eastern terrorist types are not bad but just misunderstood left me with my mouth agape when he said "Oops!" as blood filled the streets of Tehran. No men in white coats carted him off but he was found mumbling that "no doubt any direct dialogue or diplomacy with Iran is going to be affected by the events of the last several weeks." Really?
Which now makes me skittish about his health insurance plans. He's being characteristically suave. But your average fifth grader knows the math is iffy, and I wonder if Obama will end up the first patient in his new nationalized insane asylums. And will we be close behind?
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