John, Paul, George, and Sarah. Oh, and Their Loyal Dog Glenn

This second week in February marks a very curious and twisted week of birthdays, anniversaries and milestones in our nation’s history. Particularly the week of February 9-16, 1964. The week began with Americans suffering through an especially cold winter on the East Coast, and the nation still in deep mourning over the astounding death of President John F Kennedy two months before. But the night of February 9, brings a cultural watershed to the nation as intense and groundbreaking as any artistic moment could be when The Beatles do two songs on Sullivan and guitars anhair and suits are never quite the same. The Earth itself seems to spin on a bit of a happier vibe perhaps. Here comes the sun, indeed. But, wait! What do we hear? The sound of an infant’s cries. Could it be–yes it is–it’s Baby Glenn Beck born on February 10 in Everett, WA the very day after the Beatles are on Sulllivan. It is noted he wants to see the Birth Certificates of all his nursery mates. It is noted on his chart he will suck only an American-born teat. But that is not all that would shake the Earth this epic week. Oh no. Why a scant 300 miles to the east a straight-shootin’, grizzly baby was making her own way out of that there birth canal on February 11, hours later and coming on like a true American to have a look-see at the conditions and talk about how she could end the health care coverage that paid for her own delivery. And maybe see if the doctor could get himself a tax cut. Her first wink came seven minutes after birth. It was at the hospital’s CPA. So there it is. Within 24 hours on roughly the same distant American outpost in the far Northwest cameth Sarah and Glenn, born mere hours apart and required by some Jor-El of the Right to wreak havoc and lower the aggregate intelligence scores of Americans well into the 21st Century.

Finally, I could not let the waning hours of February 11 pass without a special birthday shout-out to the Once and Future Governor of My Heart-Shaped Box, Miss Sarah Palin. A humanitarian, a patriot, a thinker, a wise stateswoman, and except for the first three kids, a wonderful mother. Your work towards gaining economic freedom for billionaires has inspired us all. Your spare, humble lifestyle in these tough economic times has been a true model of selfishness. Your hypocritical and unquenchable devotion to God and money is something we will never forget. So on your birthday, you reload, girl! You put targets on Todd and the lamestream media and anybody else who questions your delusions. Who are we to shatter the illusion of a small-town, not-very-bright, but prettier-than-average, girl from the Great North Woods turned multi-millionaire on the twisted fantasies of your disciples. This is your day, SP! The one freakin’ holiday you don’t have to share with those folks who aren’t true Americans cause they’re gay or Muslim or Navajo or something.