Daily Caller

Ah, to have rose colored glasses. I wish I could look at life’s trials and just see lollipops, unicorns, and rainbows (or better yet, their adult counterparts: beer, football, and darkened rendezvous). I’ve made efforts to see lollipops and rainbows before and, once North Korea opens up, I plan on checking out those unicorns too, but it’s always been an effort to see the fluffy benignities. Most of the time, I see things as they are. And drek is drek. No matter how hard I squint, dress it up, and tell myself that it’s perrrty, it’s still drek. It’s like an Oliver Stone movie; the title is compelling, but if I submit to optimism’s seduction, I know that once I plop down the cash, sit in the theater and the strip starts-a-rollin’ out will spill retarded conspiracy theories stemming from Oliver’s American self-loathing and unrelenting mother crush (hey, he makes stuff up, so can I). They’ll spill like the putrid sewage from Eddie’s motorhome in Christmas Vacation, it’s dreck.

So to look at the situation in Cairo through bloodshot, rosy eyes and convince yourself that the Muslim Brotherhood is “moderate, regular old political” just after its leader, Morsi, declared himself above the law is beyond foolish and naive, it’s drek.  But to the New York Times, it’s lollipops and rainbows.

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