Setting aside the debate over the “opportunity cost” of letting a doddering Clint Eastwood have 11 minutes of Mitt’s only prime-time broadcast TV hour, or whether or not Eastwood made it easier for moderates to vote out Obama—even if all that is true, Clint Eastwood was still wrong.
So anyway, we’re going to have — we’re going to have to have a little chat about that. And then, I just wondered, all these promises– I wondered about when the —
–what do you want me to tell Romney? I can’t tell him to do that. I can’t tell him to do that to himself.
Clint Eastwood, Bill Maher, Pat Robertson—I don’t want anyone talking about my president like that. And Barack Obama is my president, just as much as Ronald Reagan was.
I’ve seen enough of the virulent sickness of self-deluded liberals fantasizing about killing George W. Bush and seriously comparing him to Hitler and earnestly suggesting—as about a third of Democrats believed in 2006—that a US president would kill 3,000 of his fellow citizens for political purposes.
I didn’t vote for President Obama and I agree that his presidency has been a damaging and dangerous failure. But nobody talks about my president that way. In particular, not in an event that is part of our national civic life like a party convention.
I know comics to jokes about the president that are pure blue and utterly insulting—or at least they did until 2009. But for me to tune into a speech by a man who wants to be the next president, and hear him introduced by a guy who’s riffing on the POTUS telling him to go [expletive deleted] himself is beyond the line.
I know the Mahers and Matthews and Whoopies of the world have no line. That’s beside the point.
Clint Eastwood—you were out of line. You, sir, were the “punk.”
And I’m far from the only conservative who thinks so.