Call me anything you want, in any language—but I’m just gonna say it: I’m horrified by the polyglot performances of Booker, Castro and O’Rourke last night.
I felt the same way when Kerry oiled his way into French. And yes I’m a Francophile, but an American Francophile, okay? I do not want to hear our nation addressed, nor to hear another nation addressed by our representative, except in English.
(I mean, the occasional phrase is okay, like Kennedy’s unintentionally hilarious Ich bin ein Berliner—But that’s as far as it goes.)
Those bozos werent talking to us, to Americans. And who knows to what treasonous or violent actions they were exhorting the illegal aliens among us?
I couldn’t bear to watch the entire thing, and I won’t watch the next. I’m not going to vote for any of those people, so why torture myself? But I could not help but see some of the most grating moments recapped this morning. I don’t know, maybe I should just a small cabin build me, of clay and wattles made, with no electronics, except of course the drones overhead making sure I have adequate sewage and am not burning too much wood.