Mahablog levels a scornful blast of sanity at Malkin and the other tools gibbering about Mayor Bloomberg’s recent dismissive statement on terrorism in NYC.
And a steely and beautifully-written blast it is:
And on that day I saw a Financial District sort of guy — good suit, gold watch, leather briefcase — riding that train. He was trembling. He shifted in his seat and muttered to himself. He was terrified. God only knows what that man had seen with his own eyes just two days before. Other commuters stood around him, clinging to poles and swaying with the subway car. They were silent and respectful, and they clustered around him like protective angels. But the fact is we were all flesh, and we were locked inside a metal and glass thing hurtling through miles of unguarded underground tunnels.
We all knew that. Yet we got on the subway, anyway. We had to get to work.
Meanwhile, on the other end of the spectrum…
Malkin and her ilk are so uber-nutty and graceless that I find it hard to figure out whether they are just political soldiers using everything at their means (including throwing their own feces) to stir stuff up and keep ‘the base’ motivated, or whether it’s some of that but mostly mere batshit dimwittery they themselves share with ‘the base.”
When I read her crapulent raving, I wonder whether Malkin has ever been tempered by any real tragedy, ever had her world battered by poverty, prejudice, real hardship, real terror. Ever lost anything precious and close to her, ever had a relative or loved one grow ill and/or die. Ever looked up and realized she was just one fragile human among millions on this planet, all sharing the same basic vulnerabilities and strengths that make us kin.
I cannot fathom what informs these people. There’s just such an absence of any indication the woman has a soul, a living beating human heart inside her, I have to wonder.