Gomorrah West

The word from L.A. is that the entire city is girding for protests, unrest, and maybe even large scale nastiness when the Democratic convention rolls along. To which I say: Cool!
Does anybody need a face full of Al Gore for an entire week? Sorry, but the specter of four eternal days of Ozone Man and his sappy-go-lucky socialist sycophants would be enough to make me riot. Seemingly everyone else feels the same way, too, and the halls of Hades will be emptying out into the streets of Los Angeles, where perverts, degenerates, commies, and dingbats–in short, the traditional Gore constituency–will be putting their free floating anger on wholesale public display. Now, really, didn’t they invent Prozac to calm these people down? Maybe they’ll come out with it in suppository form and it will be more pleasing to this crowd.

Meanwhile, all my pals out there have laid away a few extra boxes of single-ought and number- four buckshot for the 12-gauges. All over Los Angeles, old Remington 870’s and Winchester Defenders are being fished out from attics, cleaned, inspected, and lightly oiled. Nobody who remembers the infamous L.A. riots is tempted to be overly complacent these days.

And it will be utterly fitting if an orgy of violence sweeps over Gomorrah West. After all, violent protesters in the urban jungle are the wards of the Democratic party. If they want to pitch a collective temper tantrum, then who are we to object? Let the Democrats revel in the company of their peers.
Entire generations of economic mutants created by the Great Society are lurking in the mean shadows and the grimy decay of Los Angeles.

Not all such mutants, of course, will be gen-u-ine ghetto dwellers. The Wonderbread people are waiting in the wings, and a lot of the nose-piercing-and -cappuccino set will have been bussed in from suburbia. This will be a Euro-style bunch, making the usual demands for overt socialism and, perhaps, a cabinet level position for the Secretary of Child Molesters and Alternative Lifestyles. The waif-women will be braiding rope from their arm pit hair, citing the nation’s shameful shortage of hemp.

Meanwhile, the Hollywood set will be grinning like jackals, mugging in front of TV cameras, as the power boyz behind the entertainment scene showcase the retail side of their political muscle.

Amidst all this, the L.A. cops are caught between the rock of agitators and the hard place of total media saturation. TV cameras will be jammed into everyone’s face. A good swipe with a PR-24 side handle baton is enough to send an agitator’s teeth rolling down the street like chicklets in a typhoon, and there is much to recommend this practice. But the LAPD will be called upon to show “restraint,” after all, if we’re going to threaten people with force, better we do it in Miami to Elian Gonzalez at gun point than in Los Angeles to certified Lefties, the latter being philosophical peers of the media and the ballot box darlings of the Democratic party.

Still, the potential story everyone is waiting for is a violent uncorking and what will wind up being a forceful reaction by the Authorities.

In summary, the Democratic convention is going to showcase the true face of modern America, the make-believe that the country craves, and maybe the force that keeps them all in line.