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After 14 months of committing 100% to health care reform, the day after the signing of the Health Care bill was to mark the Democratic Party’s new primary concern: destroy the uprising, annihilate by all means necessary, the Tea Party movement.

The first sign that a plan was in place was the ham-fisted, high-camp posturing of the most controversial members of the Democratic caucus walking through the peaceful but animated “Tea Party” demonstrators on Capitol Hill. There is no reason for these elected officials to walk above ground through the media circus amid their ideological foes. The natural route is the tunnels between the House office buildings and the Capitol. By crafting a highly symbolic walk of the Congressional Black Caucus through the majority white crowd, the Democratic Party was looking to provoke a negative reaction. They didn’t get it. So they made it up.

The proof that the N-word wasn’t said once, let alone 15 times, as Rep. Andre Carson claimed, is that soon thereafter — even though the press dutifully reported it as truth — Nancy Pelosi followed the alleged hate fest, which allegedly included someone spitting, by walking through the crowd with a gavel in hand and a shit-eating grin on her face. Had the incidents reported by the Congressional Black Caucus actually occurred the Capitol Police would have been negligent to allow the least popular person to that crowd – the Speaker – to put herself in harm’s way.

That crowd was a sea of new-media equipment. Not only were tens of thousands people armed with handicams, BlackBerrys and iPods, so also was the mainstream media there, covering every inch of the event. Why did not one mainstream media outlet raise the specter that perhaps a video would exist to prove the events occurred? I am still dealing with the same press telling me we didn’t prove that ACORN was aiding and abetting criminal activity because we “did not provide enough audio and video evidence.” (Insert laugh track.) Is there not a blatant double standard at play here? Nancy Pelosi tipped her hand that race was a central part of her strategy. She invoked the Civil Rights Act and compared it with the universally reviled health care bill. Her caucus is doubling down on the civil-rights rhetoric. There are no coincidences.

Linking the health-care bill, which has nothing to do with black and white, to the divisive civil-rights period, while simultaneously accusing its opponents of being racist, is an evil strategy — literally. Charles Manson would approve.

The Democratic Party is trying to signal to the black community and to progressive media types that the way to push back against the Tea Party and Republicans is to use the reliable race card by provoking a racial incident. The ensuing rhetoric about the bill and about the nature of the Tea Party is based upon repeated talking points. Propaganda. Everyone is on message that Republicans and Tea Partiers are racist — a divisive and dangerous argument, so lacking in any shred of evidence save for the fact that the majority in the Tea Party, as in America itself, is white. This is Duke lacrosse politics at its worst.

Those in the movement who are Hispanic or black are given the Clarence Thomas treatment: mocked, ridiculed and marginalized. The Democratic party cannot afford for minority groups to break from the pack, so they show that apostasy is met with high-grade ridicule. Those willing to withstand vile and hateful un-American taunts are some of America’s greatest patriots.

The press went straight to petrified Republican leaders like John Boehner and Michael Steele over the falsified “N-word” allegations, who dutifully offered apologies that they were not qualified to give. It was a set-up.

I smelled a rat so I offered at first $10k five days after the highly publicized alleged incidents happened. How could we be five full news cycles into this major controversy and not have any evidence? In fact, the existing footage showed the Congressional Black Caucus walking and never once moving their heads toward any “racist outbursts.” Is it conceivable that all of them stoically walked by the N-word as it was hurled 15 times — as they were holding up cameras to convey they were suspicious of the crowd to begin with?

We are now two weeks since the bill was signed and the $10k reward jumped to $20k in a day after it was mentioned on both Hannity and O’Reilly. At the Searchlight Tea Party event last weekend I upped the ante to $100k. So where’s the evidence? Ken Vogel of Politico covered this story and said calls to Rep. John Lewis — one of the originator’s of the N-word storyline – were never returned.

Nancy Pelosi did a great disservice to a great civil rights icon by thrusting him out there to perform this mischievous task. His reputation is now on the line as a result of her desperation to take down the Tea Party movement.

We’ve called their bluff. And they have tried to back off. They realize that this race warfare can backfire, just as it did with the railroaded Duke lacrosse players, as it did with professor Madonna Constantine and her faked noose incident at Columbia and the Sergeant Crowley boner by Barack Obama who stupidly said the white police officer had behaved “stupidly” in handcuffing Skip Gates.

The first Alinsky president is now using surrogates to split this nation into two hostile parties so he can puppeteer the have-nots against the perceived haves. The non-response to my $100k challenge is a tacit acknowledgement that the Congressional Black Caucus and Barack Obama don’t have the stomach for doubling down.

The other part of the strategy that is built into the N-Word Capitol Hill Walk is the strategy to incite. The media is doing their job for them by speaking of an unhinged white Tea Party mob. Absent any evidence other than creatively selected hand-crafted signs from the fringe of the audience that are presented to represent the whole, the media is simply repeating assumptions that Democrats and media elites have against fly-over types. What we have here is hardcore media elitism mixed with politically correct class warfare.

The Searchlight Nevada Tea Party is the Rosetta Stone of the Democratic Party strategy. Tea Party protesters were not going to Sen. Harry Reid’s office building to threaten individuals, Democratic-style: “No Justice, No Peace!” They went to the middle of nowhere, a place akin to the moon landing site, to talk up the constitution, the founding documents and to express their dismay with the current political class. The real astroturf, the bought-and-paid-for, union-thug support network that does the heavy lifting and the bone breaking, traveled to Searchlight to incite a fight. Video captured by my film crew caught Harry-Reid-placard-holding, t-shirt-wearing appartchiks, not just misdirecting traffic down the wrong highway but also, when confronted over that hostile act, throwing a dozen eggs at the passing Tea Party Express bus.

The usual suspects of Democratic Party apologists, like John Podesta’s Media Matters, were quick to diminish the events. Eric Boehlert dubbed my report “the Phantom Egg,” calling into question my veracity. But on tape a day later we were able to prove that the Harry Reid supporters were not just the ones who’d misdirected traffic, they were also the ones who threw the eggs, just as they were also the ones who called the police to report that I was the egg thrower and the instigator. Classic Alinsky. Accuse those of the acts that you are doing. It usually works. But in this day and age of new media and hyper-media, the tape, or lack thereof, usually tells the tale.

The race baiting of the Tea Party crowd on the Capitol front was caught by calling the Democrats out — and they didn’t deliver the goods. The attempt to incite a reaction from the Nevada Tea Party was even worse. They were the violent ones, who traveled out of their way to provoke an incident — and when they didn’t get it, they blamed the victim.

IT’S ON TAPE. And the person lying on camera to the police is the field director of the Nevada Democratic Party.

Over at Media Matters, Podesta’s den of deceit, the phantom egg has turned into Breitbart mockery over easter eggs. Change the subject, misdirection, their side caught with their pants around their ankles, don’t look there media, there’s nothing to see here.

Alinsky.

The Democrats need to kill the Tea Party movement. They need to marginalize and demonize those who would stand up to their hardball, toxic and anti-democratic tactics. Their strategy is to bait and incite the Tea Party and to use whatever they can get to silence the awakening giant. They have failed, epically, and the American people now see these tactics for what they are. At long last, new people every day are beginning to understand the kinds of people we are dealing with here.

Will the media keep falling into the trap? Their business model continues to fail each and every time they are suckered – unless, of course, they are doing it on purpose. The Republican Party failed in its attempt to make good with the Tea Party when its leaders apologized for it. When will the GOP stop playing Charlie Brown to the media’s Lucy? The Democratic party has been exposed as trying to create a Kristallnacht to save the Obama presidency along the fault line of race and the essence of the First Amendment. If the GOP does not have the intestinal fortitude to fight back, a growing number of disenchanted and disenfrachised Tea Party participants will have to do it themselves.

Who is calling the shots here? Is it the White House, by way of Chicago? Or is it Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid? The press refused to tell you the truth about this president. It refused to tell you of his proud adherence to the teachings of the original Chicago “community organizer” Saul Alinsky. We have now entered the first full-fledged Alinsky presidency. The only way to beat Alinsky is with Alinsky. The Democrats and President Obama will not give up this tack. Do you think the GOP will win the day in November and in 2012 if its strategy is to apologize for every manufactured “right wing fringe” outrage?

With President Obama over the last week calling attention to the Tea Parties and their “heated” rhetoric, he has officially connected himself to the civil war his minions have flailingly attempted to inflame. The only good thing to come of this is that we can now officially put to rest the laughable notion that Obama was going to be the first post-racial president.

There is an extensive body of writing from both sides of the political aisle that has analyzed the extraordinary depths of hatred leveled at former President George W. Bush.

His birth into a wealthy and politically connected family is where a lot of the animus starts. His rejection of his Connecticut roots and adoption of a rugged Texan persona naturally riled his birth-constituency. His disjointed speaking style also alienated many others – especially those who covered him in the Northeastern media. Naturally, some of his initiatives were controversial. His allies say he didn’t do enough.

But all presidents make mistakes, pursue unpopular ideas, possess off-putting personality traits and don’t do enough to appeal to their core supporters. Something far more insidious was at work in the hatred of our most recent former president.

Now that Mr. Bush is quietly going about his retirement, this strain of rage – the GWB43 virus – has spread like wildfire, finding unsuspecting targets, each granting us greater perspective into what not long ago seemed like a mysterious phenomenon isolated only on our 43rd president.

The first person to catch the virus was Sarah Palin, whose family also was infected, including, unforgivably, her children.

Then it was Joe the Plumber, for asking a question.

Next were the Mormons.

Then it was Rush Limbaugh – who hit back.

Next, tax-day “tea party” attendees were “tea bagged.”

Then there was a beauty contestant.

And a Cambridge cop, too.

And now we have town-hall “mobs.”

Smile … you’ve been “community organized.”

When put on the media stage, these individuals and groups have been isolated for destruction for standing in the way of a resurgent modern progressive movement and for challenging its charismatic once-in-a-lifetime standard-bearer, Barack Obama.

This is their time, we’ve been told. And no one is going to stand in the way.

The origins of manufactured “politics of personal destruction” is Saul Alinsky, the mentor of a young Hillary Rodham, who wrote her 92-page Wellesley College senior thesis on the late Chicago-based “progressive” street agitator titled, “There Is Only the Fight.”

Mr. Obama and his Fighting Illini, Rahm Emanuel and David Axelrod, have perfected Mr. Alinsky’s techniques as laid out in his guidebook to political warfare, “Rules for Radicals.” In plain language, we see how normal, decent and even private citizens become nationally vilified symbols overnight – all in the pursuit of progressive political victory.

“Rule 12: Pick the target, freeze it, personalize it and polarize it. Cut off the support network and isolate the target from sympathy. Go after people and not institutions; people hurt faster than institutions. (This is cruel, but very effective. Direct, personalized criticism and ridicule works.)”

You can read the column in full here.

As I share the shocking information that our Freedom of Speech is being attacked, the radio host across from me, his face, it looks like he just ate a lemon. It’s all scrunched up like…he hates me. He abruptly cuts me off and ends my interview. I’m stupefied at the reaction of people who “just can’t handle the truth.” My driver Shelley is a liberal. She doesn’t say anything. As we get in the car I try to apologize, “Well, he asked me why I was a new political activist.  I guess I should just tell jokes.” I mean I have been hired basically to sell tickets to a bar where people will spend lots of money on alcohol. And, I do need to make some money. My husband is a cop.

And don’t get me started on the Obama Gates Crowley Beer Summit. I wrote 15 articles about racism and tore them up. My husband kept chiding me, “White people can’t discuss race.”

But, I must say. Sgt. Crowley is a first class act. A shout out to you, Sgt.  I love cops, as you can see by the above photo.

Anyway, my next stop is the rock station. It’s ironic for me to be there since I have never owned a stereo or a rock n’ roll record and went to a Baptist high school where in the late 70’s we were actually told to burn/break our rock records–I didn’t have any to burn/break.  I am telling my Kurt Cobain story about how I hooked up Weird Al with Kurt so he could get permission to write the parody “Smells Like Teen Sweat,” when I am pleasantly surprised by a cell phone call from Jessica Hahn.  Yes, the Jessica Hahn. What great radio, right?  I ask her if she’ll be in my “on-air” interview and she agrees. She understands “the business.” Jessica and I have recently struck up a friendship finding we live in the same LA area.  I had met her briefly fifteen years ago on the set of “Unhappily Ever After.”  I had apologized for parody-ing her with my “I Am Not a Bimbo” song on SNL. She was gracious and sweet. We share a background in the church and we both still study the Bible! Anyway, I knock out the rock station interview thanks to Jessica Hahn and go back to my hotel.

I scour the internet and find that the conservative big shots are now fully engaged in this battle against our government.  I send in two emails to flag@whitehouse.gov. I figure I’m already on their “list.” One of my emails says, “Is this a joke?”  One says, “How dare you attack our Freedom of Speech!  Stop the Snitch Program!  It’s illegal!” So, you see, I’m really, really on their “list.”   I’m wondering what will happen to the people on “the list.”  Audit? Jail? Death?  I’m starting to feel exactly the same as the Soviets and the Cubans.  I now understand perfectly why they risked their lives heading to Miami on rafts. The fear is palpable.  The invisible oppression of being watched.  The White House is trying to intimidate my fellow Americans from speaking out, from asking questions about this Socialized Medicine.  Nancy Pelosi is on TV saying we wear swastikas! What planet is she from?  It’s all a jumble of anger and fear and lies. My country.

My hope rises as I read Cornyn and Sekulow’s letters to the President.  They know the legal lingo.  They are representing me. Whew. And of course, there is God.  And, I pray.

My next radio interview is a “phoner.”  I gaze out the window at the beautiful Denver mountains as I sink luxuriously into this interview with a fellow conservative.  He gets it.  He is surprised that I am in the fight along with him, to save our country. My next few interviews are frivolous.  I try to accentuate the ditz in me, to sell tickets, to make Wende, the club owner like me and have me back.

Onstage, I try out a new song, “White Men,” dedicated to Sonja Sotomayer.  One audience loves it.  One is completely silent.  I decide to skip the song for the rest of the shows.  After the show, one lady comes up to me and grasps my hand in both of hers.  She whispers, “Thank you so much for speaking up, about our country.”  Her eyes look deep into mine. I feel like we have both scratched the fish symbol into the sand, during the Roman Empire times. The fall of the Roman Empire.

Here’s what popped into my head on the Miller Show. At the age of five, my mother told me that if my father ever left her she would kill herself, and that if I wanted to prevent that from happening, it was my job to keep him around. This is a heavy responsibility to lay on a kid of five but I accepted it without question. I adored my mother. She was beautiful, smart, sexy and funny. She was also a self-destructive drunk who had room in her heart only for my father. He was a charming sadist with room in his heart for no-one: a hot-shot liberal who helped found the New England branch of the A.C.L.U. but in private often used the word jewbastard.

Their marriage was, to say the least, tumultuous. I had been sent by Central Casting to play the small but important role of the child. After each of their frequent and alcoholic altercations, my father would storm out of the house (actually, the rented, upper half of a house in a working class neighborhood in Cambridge, Massachusetts…Gates-Crowley country) and head off to spend a few days with one of his girlfriends. I’d be sent after him, once actually barefoot in the snow, a sobbing ten year old, to catch up and explain how much I loved and needed him and beg him to come back. “Go home,” he’d tell me. “I’ll be back in a while.”

He would be back after a while and things would settle down for a time until the next upheaval. Shortly after my sixteenth birthday, my father left home for good and, true to her word, my mother went to the kitchen, lay down on the linoleum floor, turned on the gas and packed it in. I put our furniture in storage, made living arrangements for myself and went on with my life. After ten years of analysis, two years of Reichian therapy, fire-walking, re-birthing and then a second ten years of analysis, I had forgiven my poor, sweet, alcoholic mother. But my father remained beyond my powers to forgive. The last shrink I attended put it this way. “The no-good bastard isn’t worth forgiving. Live with it.”

Meanwhile, I had become a Christian… my own form of odd-ball Christian (leave out the middleman and deal direct with the Maker for big savings). Each morning and night I get down on my knees and thank God for my life and ask Him to make me grateful all the time instead of just most of the time. One morning, a few weeks ago, I realized that I had forgiven my father. I don’t know how or when, I just knew that it had happened. Not because the son of a bitch was worth forgiving and certainly not because he had asked for it, but just because, if I was ever going to feel grateful all the time, in other words, if I was going to become truly happy, I had to forgive him. It wasn’t for him (although it affects him, wherever he is) it was for me.  The heaviness in my heart which he represented and which I’d always carried around, was just gone. I felt lighter. I loved my wife more now. I loved my kids, my grandkids, my friends, the blue sky above and maybe even guys who cut me off on the freeway. (Well…) I hadn’t tried to forgive my father. It had been, it seems, the inevitable result of my prayers to feel grateful, my determination to be happy.

Back to Professor Gates. He has spent a career immersing himself in all the bad stuff that white people have done to Black people. His head is full of it. It seethes in him like a cauldron and it hurts. He will never feel relief until he forgives us white folks. Not just good ones like Officer Crowley, an Irish cop who has worked harder than probably any white guy alive to understand the Black condition, but ordinary ones like me. Oh yes, and really bad ones like the Grand Dragon of the Ku Klux Klan. Hard, you say? If it was easy, as my dear old grandfather used to remark, everybody would do it. But it’s the only way. You can forgive and be filled with happiness and peace of mind or you can hold on to justifiable anger and be rich, famous, tenured at Harvard and miserable.

Jimmy, from all accounts, has shown himself to be a stand-up guy. A good man, a good cop. Someone who is respected and loved by the people who matter most in his life: family, friends and the men and women who serve with him in the Cambridge Police Department, back in my home state of Massachusetts. Anyone who saw the strong statements made by Sgt. Leon Lashley and Officer Kelly King in support of their colleague can appreciate that these two people came forward.

I’m happy for Jimmy Crowley because now that the dog and pony show staged by the ringmaster-in-chief is officially over, he can get on with his life. Go back home where he belongs, with his wife and kids, being a dad. He can hold his head high for the way he conducted himself, after being called “a racist” by a good friend of the president during an unfortunate event which should never have occurred in the first place.

I can only imagine Jimmy’s shock as he was thrust into the spotlight on July 22 after President Obama, while speaking at a national press conference on health-care reform, decided to foolishly comment on the subject of the arrest of his pal, Professor Skip Gates. As we now know on July 16, Sgt. James Crowley responded to a 9-1-1 call at a home on Ware St., in Cambridge. Upon arriving on the scene he was met by the woman who had made the phone call and proceeded to investigate a possible break-in at the residence.

The rest, as they say, is history and I’m not going to rehash the event.

There are enough stories out there on the Internet along with the police report of the arrest for those who wish to read it.

So now what? In a brief statement made by Officer Crowley after the White House get together, he mentioned that both men wanted to look forward, rather than backward.  Agree to disagree on the particular issue.

No apologies were made, which at least in regard to the president and Mr. Gates, in my opinion, is unfortunate. For all the president’s “talk” about “a teachable moment,” in the end, it was just that. All talk. No action. The White House got their photo-op and now they’re happy. Too bad; they blew it.

An opportunity to “right the wrong” is gone. As they sat at the table, sipping their beer, what would it have taken for Mr. Gates to look Mr. Crowley in the eye and say “I’m sorry”? You know, something like, “I’m sorry for the way I behaved. I was tired after a very long trip, locked out of my home and I should have known better. Please, accept my apology,” to which Mr. Crowley more than likely would have said, “Apology accepted.” Now, there’s a teachable moment for you, America. Have the strength of character to admit when you’re wrong and take responsibility for your actions. Man, this country could have been lifted up, big time, had that happened. No dice.

And what’s up with our president? Here is a man who traveled all over Europe apologizing left and right for supposed past mistakes made by the United States. He can’t find a way to say, “I’m sorry Mr. Crowley”? He doesn’t have it in him to apologize not only to the men and women of the Cambridge PD, but law enforcement officers all across the country for his off-the-cuff, boneheaded statement?  Instead we get this “regrettable, calibrate my words” crap. This is leadership? Ugh!

Maybe, it’s just me. Maybe I’m a little sensitive because my dad was a firefighter for 22 years outside of Boston. He knew a lot of cops as we were growing up. He would tell my brothers and me, if you’re ever stopped by a police officer, you show respect. Keep your mouth shut. Don’t talk back. You’ll never have a problem. He was right. But hey, that was another time and place.

Today is a new day. We live in the age of moral equivalency. We’re told both sides overreacted. There is no “right” there is no “wrong.” The black professor with a chip on his shoulder is no different than the white cop out doing his job. What a bunch of bull.

But hey, it’s over. Last call at The White House Tavern came and went without a lot of fanfare. Until next time.

As for me, I’ll close with this… I respect Sgt. Crowley and wish him all the best. He made a lot of cops and many Americans from coast to coast very proud. If you were to ask, I would say what this country needs are a few more men like Jimmy Crowley.

A stand-up guy and an honest cop if ever there was one.