Bomb-Throwing Bill is 'Blowing in the Wind'

I still love the music of Bob Dylan and Joan Baez and IMHO the best rock ‘n’ roll group evah, The Band. I couldn’t imagine back in the ‘60s that the day would ever come that I would look back on the revolution powered by “sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll” as anything but a fun time by all.

But then life happened. I spent the last year of the decade aboard a U.S. Navy destroyer, slinging 5-inch shells of high explosive over on the beach in support of our guys in the jungle, fighting for each other as much or more as for mom, apple pie and America. It was a mighty confusing era, but though I certainly did more than my part partaking of the unholy trinity of wine, women and bongs, I was never anti-war.

I might know the words of Dylan’s lyric “you don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows,” but William Ayers, Hanoi Jane and none of the rest of that bomb-throwing bunch of Weathermen anarchists were ever my heroes. But that’s all ancient history. Bad ol’ days gone.

So whatever happened to old bomb-throwing Bill Ayers? Couldn’t be the same guy who’s on the faculty of some ivy-tower campus in Chicago?

So what’s old wild Bill up to? Writing education standards to be taught to our kids? The Hell you say! Standing on Old Glory in a dirty alley to pose for a photo for his memoirs?! Old commies don’t die after all. They just turn respectable and live down the street from Presidential candidates.

Not that Barack Hussein Obama should feel any obligation toward the guy who got him his first big job organizing a community in Southside Chicago and blowing through $100 million of some goofy white guy’s grant money. Hey, just an old bomb-thrower tossing goodies to a friend.

But I guess by now ol’ wild Bill’s finally feeling some heat from the VRWC’s investigation into the Annenberg Challenge grant scam he and his buddy Barack pulled back in the ‘80s. So Bill finally steps out of the shadows and responds to the questions, sorta, kinda. How, you might ask?

Well of course, in a ‘60s kinda way. With a comic book. Seriously. In black and white, no less. Nothing says serious discussion like a B/W comic.

And the late-night comics claim they can’t find anything in the Obama campaign to joke about? Lordy, the whole blooming campaign is a joke.

How can anybody say a campaign ain’t funny that starts off with Crazy Ol’ Uncle Jeremiah and Bomb-Throwing Bill, moves on to the Heil Obama! World Tour, climaxes with Greek gods and fireworks in a football stadium and tapers off into painting lipstick on a pig? Now that there’s funny.

What’s not funny is the thought of Little Barry, Big Mama Michelle, Bomb-Throwing Bill and Crazy Uncle Jeremiah partying in the White House.