At minimum, once a week, John Kass goes Arepagetican* Greek on some creep.
- A Caliban of a corpulent cop marinated with Happy Cossack gets his booze Botox peeled back for ridicule after tossing a tiny Polish barmaid around while Blackberry armed cowards text the horror.
- An Entitled Patronage Poltroon pries pennies out the tax-payers to fill his swimming pool.
- A daffy Burgomeister wearing an Indiana Jones hat that makes him look like a toad stool with legs gums up the English Language while decrying the sorry state of student test scores
The parade of folly is longer than a Studs Terkel gush segment on WTTW.
Today, John Kass gives America's Brooks Brothers Elmer Gantry - Rev. Pat Robertson - a sound butt-gnawing over the Polecat Preacher Man's moronic exegesis on Haiti's horrible plague of woes.
Pat Robertson, a dedicated hypocrite of the Old School, sees God's Hand in the earthquake that killed tens of thousands of Haitians as recompense for Voodoo.
John Kass cuts to the quick of this slow-hearted opportunist.
It saddens me because Robertson's foolishness once again allows knee-jerk critics of Christianity to use his nonsense to paint countless Christian ministers and priests with the Robertson brush. But they're not in the angry smiting business. They're in the business of love and kindness, not hate and revenge.
I'm clearly no theologian. And the wrath of God against the sinners seems a common thread in the Old Testament.
But has Robertson forgotten about the New Testament, the new covenant, the one that's all about love and caring, even for the sinners?
Mr. Kass, give him one in the jewels before you move on - God told me to tell you that, John. Praise Jesus!
For books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them to be as active as that soul whose progeny they are; nay, they do preserve as in a vial the purest efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that bred them.
As good almost kill a man as kill a good book: who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image; but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye.
And though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play on the earth, so Truth be in the field, we do injuriously by licensing and prohibiting misdoubt her strength. Let her and Falsehood grapple; who ever knew Truth put to the worse in a free and open encounter?
I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race, where that immortal garland is to be run for, not without dust and heat.
John Milton Areopagitica 1644 - A Defense of Free Speech - not moronic mouthings.