Jewish World Review Wesley Pruden January 12, 2007
Years ago an earnest preacher of my acquaintance, who made up with volume what he lacked in eloquence, bought a 15-minute slot on a radio station in my hometown and proceeded to address the whole world every Sunday morning.
“Hear me, London, England!” he cried. “Hear me, Paris, France. Hear me, Rome, Italy.”
Nobody remembers what “the Rt. Rev. Prophet M.D. Willett, Traveling Motorist,” as he styled himself, actually said in his Macedonian call to the far corners of the world. Neither Londoners nor Parisians, or even Romans, are likely to remember, either, because the radio station was a 250-watt powerhouse whose signal might, if atmospheric conditions were perfectly aligned, have reached the city limits. The signal was rarely strong enough to get across the Arkansas River separating the two halves of the town (or even across the smaller, slower Fourche Bayou).
Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid are direct descendants of Prophet Willett, intoxicated by imagined dominion, arriving in town to take over Congress and promising “to take the country in a new direction.” Indeed, many of the pundits and the blowhards of the Internet are outraged that the Democrats have not already spiked the guns of war, brought the Islamists into the peaceable kingdom, impeached George W. and banished Republicans to the fourth ring of hell. This was what the surly leftmost appendages of the body politic were promised. Surely a hundred hours have passed already, even accounting for the House attempt to stop the clock.
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