Ammo Grrrll calls this one CHARADES:
On my recent road trip to and from Arizona to Minnesota, I had to pass through a checkpoint in New Mexico. Several uniformed Border Patrol men and vehicles were clustered around. A few relaxed drug-sniffing dogs were hanging out as well. Everybody hates someone who holds up the line, especially when it’s 110 degrees and you have to roll down your window. So, with uncharacteristic restraint, I didn’t ask, “What do you do if you find someone who is not here legally?”
Because the answer, of course, is “Absolutely nothing. We’re not allowed to.” The only way an illegal could maybe possibly get deported would be if he refused to bake a cake for a gay wedding.
Not that it will ever come up. I had my car CD player blaring mariachi music, and when asked by the agent if I was a citizen said, “Si, senor.” The only thing I could have done to look more suspicious was hand him Ahmed’s “clock,” or scarier yet, bite a Pop-Tart into the shape of a gun. Nobody asked for any kind of proof, or, God forbid, an I.D. My word was good enough. Now, granted, I look about as Hispanic as Paris Hilton, but the guy just waved me on through with a slight smile.
An elaborate and very expensive charade. An old Jewish guy we know who had had the misfortune of living in the Former Soviet Union told us bitterly, “We pretended to work and they pretended to pay us.”
In this case, just the pay is real. I imagine that some union would raise hell if every single Border Patrol Agent were fired or laid off. So better to pay them and then just not give them anything to do. I do not blame the agents. Everyone knows where the policy is coming from.
The Democrats will soon get nine to eleven million more voters, distributed nicely to change every red state to blue for all time. The Chamber of Commerce will get the cheap labor they salivate for. The rich liberals will get nannies and housekeepers from Guatemala and El Salvador and yard guys from Mexico. And the open-borders crowd will get to congratulate themselves on how open-minded they are, how morally superior to us crude “nativists.” At least until some thug shoots their daughter.
Everybody gets a trophy!! It’s win-win for everyone except the taxpayers, unskilled workers who have to compete, and school districts in border states like mine. Oh, and the nostalgic Constitutionalists who fondly remember a country of both freedom and laws. Plus a few random daughters who will get unenforced laws named after them as a parting gift.
Here’s another expensive scam: green signs. Somebody – not you or me of course, but somebody – got a contract to put up many signs that say “Don’t drink and drive” on the Interstate. Lord even knows what each one cost.
“Don’t drink and drive” is a lovely sentiment, but who, exactly, is that aimed at? Shouldn’t those signs be inside bars instead of on the Interstate? If you’re not drinking, it’s pointless. And if you’re already drunk, what are the chances that you are going to see that sign, smack your forehead, and say, “Oh, man, I have been drinking and now I’m driving, which, despite 50 years of relentless propaganda, I never realized was wrong until this very minute when I saw that expensive sign. What can I do? Maybe go fast to get off the highway sooner.”
This is roughly as effective as a green sign near the pregnancy tests at Walmart that says, “Don’t have irresponsible, unprotected sex.” That ship, my friends, has sailed.
There are other signs that say, “Dust Storms May Exist” followed by “Use Extreme Caution.” Apparently, just regular garden-variety caution is insufficient during dust storms. Which may or may not exist, like Bigfoot or the insurance plan you could keep if you liked it.
Soon we may need color-coded Degrees of Caution. Level 1 – Puce – continue texting while drinking coffee. Level 3 – Lavender – grip wheel tightly in the “ten and two” position, swivel head back and forth continuously. Level 5 – Magenta – pull over and get in fetal position; wait for government to come help.
Important Reminder: Always Use Extremely Extreme Caution in the fetal position. Pray that while in the fetal position you are not found by chatty, wine-swilling Planned Parenthood spokes-ghoul who may loot your organs. Remember, simply being alive is no deterrent to organ salvage and sales.
(Planned Non-Parenthood assures us they aren’t doing any more what they never were doing and people only thought they were doing from the “edited” videos of conversations that never happened. Yup. It’s all good because they aren’t doing what they weren’t. Just so we’re clear.)