The Last Thing They Need

The new Organizing for America office in South St. Louis opened tonight. It was an altogether depressing affair at which the leftists—some solid communist party members, some well-meaning boobs—pretended to enjoy themselves.  It was like the unveiling of a child’s headstone.

Outside the office on California at Cherokee was a little group of little boys, some on foot, others on bikes.  They were engaging and cute and very curious about why all of us with Gadsen Flags and signs were standing outside Obama’s office.

A man on stilts in an Uncle Sam costume explained, “we’re here to oppose tyranny.”

“What’s tyranny,” a little boy asked.

“Tyranny is when someone tells you how to live,” the tall man said.

“Obama ain’t tellin’ nobody how to live,” the boy replied.

“George Bush was a baaaaad man.  Bill Clinton didn’t tell people how to live,” another boy offered.

The boys went inside.  They came out quickly.  The organizers, who invited them in and who knew one of the boys by name, kicked them out because they were eating too many cookies.  Apparently feeding the poor isn’t one of OFA’s missions.

Those little boys live in a very rough part of town. Not the roughest, but certainly not the best. The neighborhood has a lot of Latino shops and restaurants.  Most of the residence are African American with a small cadre of Latinos and whites.  Very large dogs abound—large dogs with barks the say “stay away” not “come pet me.”  Many of the adults in the neighbor have a look that matches those barks, but most were friendly and curious at the Tea Partyers.

If Obama and OFA have their way, those boys will never worry about losing a home or paying an electric bill. Losing a job will mean nothing to them.  They’ll never have much more they have have right now, and they’ll have no means for getting more.  They can take solace in knowing that everyone else the same as them.  Everyone except, of course, the Political Class who determines how much each of them gets.

The Political Class was at Cherokee and California tonight, too.  They were inside. Some wore suits and ties, some jeans and t-shirts, but they were all unmistakable.  In contrast to the boys and the neighbors, the Political Class is angry.  Their nostrils flare as they glance at me and the handful of “tea baggers” wandering around the largely unfurnished room.  The Political Class has Master’s Degrees in the social sciences.  They are determined to destroy that which they do not understand.  Sort of like a woodpecker tapping on a dynamite stick.

“Won’t you sign in,” a woman said to me. She smiled, but her voice and her eyes made her sentence less of an invitation and more of an instruction. Two other women assisted in giving this order to everyone who walked in.  I wonder if they’ll recognize my name and affiliation. Probably not.  They might wonder about the person who answered “No” to the various pledges on the sign-in sheet.

“And then tea baggers showed,” up a woman said to a groups of 3 Political Class newcomers who’d gathered to absorb her lessons in condescension.  They would learn from the best, as even the sleeves of her tight white sweater dripped superiority.

One wall of the room was covered with sign-up sheets for Finish Line and Health Care.  I don’t know what Finish Line means, and I don’t care.  Earlier I watched from the street as a woman tried to write on one of these sheets.  She had a hard time.  Pens don’t work well when writing on a vertical wall, and the OFA people didn’t provide markers or pencils that I could see.  Organizing for America doesn’t waste much money on human factors.  Makes you wonder who benefits from all this.

Back outside, the boys had gone home.  As I walked a block to my car I felt my fever returning.  I was freezing.  I also felt so sorry for those little boys that almost cried once inside the car.

If Obama, whom the boys adore, has his way, they will be poor by our standards until they die. That’s okay.  I would bet that the happiest people on earth are among the poorest materially.  But these boys will also be bitter.  That’s the only thing the Political Class gives—it’s bitterness.  These boys will learn to hate others, distrust everyone, and get what they can.

These boys and all the people in that neighborhood need an economy that’s unfettered by onerous taxes so that they can earn and earn and learn and grow. These boys need a business community unleashed from ridiculous regulation meant to level the playing field by making everyone poor.  These boys need opportunity to excel, to channel their energy toward good things, and mentors to guide them.  They need hope in themselves and distrust of their government—their slave masters.  These cute, open, friendly, polite little kids need to learn that they are NOT dependent on Obama; Obama is dependent on THEM the way the ARE.  If they were to believe in themselves and achieve and excel and make money, they would realize that Obama’s plans can do NOTHING but HOLD THEM down.

The last thing these kids needed was an OFA office.

Gateway Pundit has more. And later (tonight or tomorrow) Sharp Elbows will have something, I’m sure. Also watch for M Moore’s report on A Traditional Life Lived.  Dana Loesch was there, but I didn’t see her.  I was too busy trying to figure out what happened to all the furniture.  (The room was EMPTY.)