If anyone on this pathetic excuse for a political website knows anything about hats, it is yours truly.  I have been wearing hats since the days when haberdashers strode across the earth like giants.  But you know only so much of Truman as you gleaned from The Truman Show, so I will not speak to you any further of haberdashers.  Bah.  Notwithstanding your profound ignorance of milliners, Obamakiddies, I am writing to tell you this:  Senator Robert Byrd (D.-W.Va.) should take his name out of Obama’s goddamned hat, forthwith.

I can hear your keening intolerance of all advice or disagreement, Obamaturds, rising in a chorus of fascistic defensiveness to announce to me that this impossible, for His Worship, the Messiah from Illinois, does not wear hats.  Come to think of it, Obamanuts, I cannot decide whether it more amuses me to compare your gang of jackbooted centrists to Joseph Goebbels, the Nazi propagandist, or simply to call Obama the New Mussolini.  Don’t ask me what I mean by that.  By even questioning me, you’re fascistically oppressing me, you goosestepping goons of the center-left.   The comparison to Il Duce flatters you unduly, however, because Mussolini was a polymath.  Of course, you don’t know what a polymath is, and probably mistake Mussolini for low-fat venison, you feckless twerps.  Returning to my central point, which concerns milliners, hats, and Barack Hussein Obama, you hateful know-it-alls, you are wrong.  Obama wears headgear – and did so recently, when he posed for the cover of the New Yorker before a burning flag with his very well-armed wife!  Ha!  I will pause whilst you urinate upon yourself in rage over my witty reference to that self-evidently parodic New Yorker cover, and send instant messages to each other about whose pantaloons are more tightly bunched and more foully soiled at the mere mention of its desecration of your Dear Leader.

So there’s my point – you Obamaturds can’t take a good roorbacking!  (I will pause while you search your precious Wikipedia to learn what a roorback is, you Ritalin-addled, snot-nosed youth.)  What kind of pathetic political party moans when its leader is portrayed as a defender of our enemies with an overbearing terroristic wife?  It’s funny, you dumbshits.  Besides, as any reader of the Aurora could have told you, his opponents called Adams a royalist who coddled the Brits, and his wife an overbearing harridan!  It’s called freedom of the press, you FISA-loving crappers upon the First and Fourth Amendments!  But you wouldn’t understand that, since the only amendments you make are to your Facebook profiles, in search of Obama-loving mates with whom you can raise more money to be sacrificed to the golden calf of fundraising you worship daily.  Philistine assholes.

While your sleight of fundraising convinces you that this campaign will go well for you, it is not so, you Stalinists of the center.  Here is why:  it would have been so easy for Obama to unify Van Buren’s party and rise above the roorbacks – by nominating a great leader, a man of the greatest generation, to bring the nonagenarian voters together with those of more recent vintage.  Indeed, to counteract the refusal of frankly racist white voters in the swing states of Ohio, Pennsylvania, and West Virginia to vote for Senator Obama, there could be no better salve for our party, no more stirring tonic, than to nominate as Vice-President a former Klansman from West Virginia itself – former Senate Majority Leader Byrd!  This would unite the Democratic Party as nothing could, but of course your Dear Leader will have nothing of it.  Thus rejected, Senator Byrd should reach with alacrity into whatever headgear Senator Obama favors, and hastily withdraw his name from said headgear, be it hat or cartoon turban, lest he receive an insultingly brief consideration for the Vice-Presidency.

While I had of course supported Dame Clinton in the primaries, as she was the oldest Democrat remaining, since then I have written pamphlet after pamphlet in support of Senator Byrd, even logging onto your puerile Obama website (no, not TalkingPointsMemo.com, though they are indistinguishable) imploring your precious demagogue to select him as a running mate.  Yet I suppose despite Obama’s generation, despite its overweening sense of self-importance and its wallowing in masturbatory self-regard, has earned the right to spurn a generation of nonagenarians like myself and Senate Majority Leader Byrd by the Nietzschean Will to Power through which it ripped control of Franklin Roosevelt’s party from elders who had clutched it to their withered bosoms for decades.  Lacking an appropriately wizened and hunched companion on the Democratic ticket to Senator Obama, I thus announce my support for the the septuagenarian of Sedona.  Though he lacks the unseemly vigor of Senator Obama, I am certain he can take a good roorback, and that, given his birth in the Canal Zone, he will pull the right names from his Panama hat when the time comes.  Nonagenarians, unite.