America Sprints With Walker On ObamaTax And Spending

Walker, Wisconsin Ranger. 

America's hero rides with the win.

First he hangs up on lefty's recall.

Now he's telling ObamaTax (a cool tag originated by Times247.com whiz Jessica Chasmar) to stick it after the Supreme Court took the Marxist medical pill.

No way his state is going to sick bay as the Dems throw up the biggest levy in history.

Scott Walker knows the right way. The governor galloped against union robbery, and the country rallied behind his alarm.

Now the jig's up. Citizens know exactly where their taxes go — to government pensions — and are starting to stop this nauseous spending. 

Natch, this sanity appeals only to conservatives. 

Liberals hate it. Spending for them is like a cruise buffet. Constant gorging. Try to stop it, and a big, fat riot ensues. 

Hence the Wisconsin eruption when Walker said: Government  employees should contribute some to their retirement.

In other words: Enow felicity.

For that radical proposition, the goons for greed went ment.

And did what they're expert at — shovel millions down a rat hole — while trying to fire the governor.

So what's lefty left with? Ad hominem, no doubt. Walker is an idiot. Righty is on a union witch hunt (we can only wish). Romney's army is deaf to the common man.

It's all SOP — standard operating procedure.

Liberals are nothing if not masochistic. Even pinkos at private firms vote to pay higher taxes so gov types can haul in $150,000 a year in salary and benefits.

Other liberal laughers:

1. Liberals hate themselves so much, they don't want to call themselves that. They prefer progressives, even with regressive ideas.

2. They're not pro abortion. They're pro choice, but God forbid if your choice is to cut gov funding for Planned Parentless.

3. They don't call 'em bisexual. Their term is transgender.

4. It's not spending. It's investing.

5. Terrorists? Never. They're militants.

6. The Muslim massacre of 9/11? Hardly. 'Twas a nondenominational event.

7.  American exceptionalism? Too embarrassing to express.

8. Don't dare say Indians. They're Native Americans, as opposed to every other American born here.

9. They love to say give back, as if society provided those riches in the first place. News:  Philanthropists don't give back. They give.

10. They don't blame Obummer's socialism for FDR Depression II. With them, the buck stops at Bush.

They're here all week. 

Bucky Fox is an author and editor in Southern California. 

The Oh Bummer In Obama

ObamaCare could get whacked by the gavel this week.

As if that jars Obummer.

He'll simply ignore the court ruling.

Just like he dismissed Congress by hitting America with Obamnesty.

Law and order? More like flaw and border.

If you're bound to vote Democrat, don't bother recrossing to Mexico. Even if you're an illegal alien or something from "Aliens."

Hand it to Obummer. He led with his gut, not his behind.

You know he hungers to crash open our Southern flank.

Just like he yearns to ditch traditional marriage.

And choke industry through his fellow zealots at the EPA: Every Pinko Apply.

With this dictate, the Red House made Congress forceless.

So? That's what Barry wants with all his transformations. Ignore the pesky Constitution with his Dem Dozen:

1. Strip America's boundary. Obummer ticket to young illegals is still too confining. What of the 6 billion other people seeking U.S. entry? Let 'em all in.

2. Knock knock. With such a packed country, what to do about housing? Home owners, open your doors. Plenty of room in there for the huddled masses.

3. Campus rush. College too expensive? Not anymore. Free tuition, a gift of the taxpayer.

4. Free grub. Food stamps aren't doing the job. Time for food ramps — right into HomeTown Buffet. And don't charge admission.

5. Joyless ride. Memo to energy companies: Gas up all the cars with rocket-high bills for all those car clingers. And do it without drilling for oil.

6. Better red than shed. Jack the debt limit to $50 trillion. If that bleeds the printing presses, good.

7. This works. Now we have enough dough for 100% employment — in government jobs doing nothing at $150,000 per year.

8. Class drivefare. Can it be that some steer Mercedes while others are stuck with lousy Civics? Just isn't right. Time for a Benz in every garage.

9. Click. Evidently not everyone has a MacBook Pro. Easy to solve that. Give 'em out.

10. Cut the cherry tree crap. George Washington stood for too much America. Schools better get with the program. Namely Marx. Easy enough since that's what they're teaching now.

11. Turn out the lights. The party's over, South Korea. Not the Communist Party. With our troops out of there, better get used to the North.

12. Fold it. Enough of that arrogant "Star-Spangled Banner." Strike up the band with an anthem in keeping with our borderless land: "We Are the World."


Bucky Fox is an author and editor in Southern California.

Pacquiao Robbed By A Saturday Night Special

Pacman won the fight.

Ellipses.

Only, the judges gave the belt to a guy so battered, he rolled out of the arena in a wheelchair.

Reminds me of the coolest headline in sports history: Harvard beats Yale 29-29.

As with that 1968 Crimson rush to a tie, Manny Pacquiao was so impressive Saturday night, only one result was possible: He won.

Ellipses.

After Pacman pounded Tim Bradley through 12 rounds, the decision came in:

Judge 1 voted for Pacquiao. Duh.

Judge 2 voted for Bradley. OK, a numbnuts.

Judge 3 voted for Bradley.

The guy posing as a heavy bag all night had hit the jackpot at the MGM Grand.

The Pacman fight party that my Filipino wife and I joined did a massive imitation of "The Scream." Jaws dropped. Sound stopped.

Then came the TV outrage.

From Jim Lampley and his HBO team.

From Bob Arum, the Pacman promoter.

From Freddie Roach, the Pacman trainer.

From the fans flowing from the Vegas arena like bettors stung by the biggest robbery since Solyndra.

Even Bradley sounded stunned. Or at least like a realist, that he beat odds that only rollers at the craps table could appreciate.

Funny, only the man with the ugly goatee and snappy record  — now down to 54-4-2 with this first setback in seven years  — bobbed from the hysteria.

The lone thing that hurt him was his chin-straining smile. He knew he had turned the Californian's bald top into a bobble head.

He also knew this: A November rematch with the 29-0 Palm Springs muscleman has the weight of a Bradley Fighting Vehicle.

You can't buy this pub.

If Pacquiao had pulled the proper votes, the boxing world would be yawning like a wife in bed with her longstanding husband.

Now we're engaged.

Filipino TV spent half an hour whining about the bout this morning.

We did the same over BLTs at the breakfast table.

Then we finally awoke. November suddenly has more substance than Romney-Obama. Bring on Pacman-Bradley II.

This Shock on the Strip makes all sorts of sense. And a pile of cents.

Saturday's steal does bring back memories of other shaky decisions.

Sugar Ray Leonard over Marvelous Marvin Hagler, who dominated the 1987 fight.

Felix Trinidad over Oscar De La Hoya, who clobbered the Puerto Rican in 1999.

Any Olympic figure skating final in the Cold War, when communists won automatically.

All sure safer than a hot war. This is just sports, after all.

And we have six months to sweat another showdown: the Filipino Fist vs. Desert Storm.

Period.


Bucky Fox is an author and editor on Southern California.

D-Day Through The Decades

June 6, 2012  — 68 years after D-Day, when a wave of heroes stormed Normandy on the way to nailing the Nazis. 

Among the American stars was Creighton Abrams, whose tanks rolled through France toward Germany years before he commanded the Vietnam drawdown. It's a story Scott Smith captures solidly for Investor's Business Daily and for which I had the honor to edit. 

Abrams was the kind of soldier President Reagan lauded in his "Boys of Pointe du Hoc" speech on D-Day's 40th anniversary. I watched in awe as Reagan delivered Peggy Noonan's line on that Hoc cliff after Secret Service agents cleared the Pointe for the president's chopper landing. They did it smoothly, even making Walter Cronkite traipse through airport machines. 

Twenty-eight years after that 1984 R-Day  — Reagan Day  —  I recall it as one of the grandest of my life. It felt so special when I related it to my Dad, Charles Dickens Fox, himself a Bronze Star recipient from the WWII European front. He loved reliving history, as when we hit Bastogne, Belgium, ground zero of the Battle of the Bulge, and drove to Luxembourg's cemetery, the resting spot of Gen. George Patton, who died in Heidelberg so sadly after a paralyzing car crash just months beyond his Hitler-crushing triumph. 

So now D-Day 2012. This time the crisis is personal. My wife, Maria, is having heart surgery. I'm at the hospital awaiting good news. And thinking of good times. 

 

One of the finest involves another top soldier and great American: Bob Wicker (swinging above at his favorite venue, the golf course). 

Bob was my sports editor at Stars & Stripes in Germany in the 1980s and '90s. Before that he was a GI with the sweetest job of all time: S&S reporter in Paris. 

 

Now he lives near Reno, Nev., and I hope to see him in Vegas at a Stripes reunion in the fall. 

Bob is pillar. He was a rock of a newspaperman, solidified with creativity and integrity. Think NCIS' Gibbs with a laugh. Or new TV badass Longmire without a gun.

 

Now Bob is a semiretired husband (to a champion wife, Kathy) and father (to a titlist son, Thomas) whom all of his old sportswriters  —  Bob Dillier, Tim Boivin, Rob Staggenborg, Tom Saunders, Rusty Bryan, Klint Johnson, Ben Abrams  — revere to this day. 

Cool thoughts on D-Day, which lives forever. And now that my wife is safely out of surgery, it's even more reason for me to celebrate.

 

Bucky Fox is an author and editor in Southern California.