By the Comics Curmudgeon
It is hard to move Lindsey Graham to anger, but once moved, his rage is implacable, and only a constitutional amendment can satisfy him. Lindsey is mad at babies, of course — babies who have the misfortune of being pushed through a birth canal that is lousy with Foreignness, but then land with a plop on U.S. soil. These babies then literally grow metal hooks into the soil, making them impossible to deport. Most Americans find squalling brown infants terribly intimidating, and instinctively clutch their purses tighter when walking through NICUs in “bad areas” at night, but at least cartoonists are unafraid to call an anchor an anchor.
What is the attitude of the typical illegal immigrant towards the country that they left their home and family to sneak in to, and then work for terrible pay to stay in? Obviously — obviously — they hate it. They hate it with a burning passion! And so, when they drop a baby on U.S. soil, and they realize that their newborn child is a citizen of America rather than of Foreign, they hate that baby, too, and must find ways to show their contempt for it. Here we see a typical pair of illegal immigrants, enjoying a long weekend off, powerboating off the Hamptons, literally using their new American baby as an anchor. Would they be throwing that little patriot overboard if he had been born in Peru or Mongolia or wherever? We think not!
Exactly what kind of monsters are these illegal aliens, who so casually toss their American babies about? Here we see the two main types of immigrants who swim under fences to arrive in our homeland. On the left, we have the notoriously corrupt Pakistani President Asif Ali Zadari, who has realized that the Presidency of Pakistan is one of the least rewarding jobs in the world, and who has come here seeking a better life as some sort of shady disco doctor to the stars. On the right, we have Spider-Man. Is this who we want as the parents to our next generation of children? Bribe-takers and pajama-clad vigilantes?
At least there is one foreign menace the U.S. has managed to keep at bay: the Dutch. Here, we see a typical Dutchman, slouching sullenly along the barrier wall our farsighted forefathers built along our border with the Netherlands. With his hair in his face, his backwards baseball cap, and his big baggy pants, he represents everything Americans must keep at bay. Note how he won’t even make eye contact. He’s probably high on drugs! Are you high, kid? Huh? Are you? Look at me when I talk to you! Anyway, as you can see, the Anti-Dutch Protection Barrier is crumbling on Obama’s watch, but fortunately Mopey van Mopen here is too lazy to try to take advantage of that fact.
Yes, it is certainly tough, being America, what with all the Mexican babies and Spider-Men and Dutch layabouts trying to sneak into you. You have to sort of feel sorry for our national symbol, as he heads morosely down to the laundromat to wash his clothes, looking at his fading t-shirts and trying to decide if he can afford to throw them out despite their unsightly appearance. In fact, it seems that our Uncle Sam doesn’t even realize that he has something that everyone else envies: plump, juicy buttocks. And they look great in vertical stripes, too. Learn to love yourself, Uncle Sam! You’ve got a hot bod!