See what you made me do!

I reckon we’ll be hearing that a lot over these next few months. The classic excuse for a blunder made within reasonable proximity of another party. I know I used to hear it a lot from my sister when we were younger. And last week. Sure she was getting dialysis when I snapped her on the ass with a damp towel, but I’m not the one jumping around pulling out stents.

The “See what you made me do!” campaign will start right after the “violent, racist mob opposed to the Democrats’ giant new entitlement program” offensive runs its course. We’re already seeing reports of yea-voting Democrats’ office windows shattered by bricks as if it was a Berkeley Marine recruiting station. Faxes, honest to God faxes, laced with profanity and wishes of painful death. Anonymous Internet postings. You know it’s just a matter of time before we beklanned, tea-bagging, Gunfight-at-the-O.K-Corral types start hoping Obama himself somehow meets his doom, perhaps even going so far as penning elaborate fiction depicting how it just might happen.

Unprecedented and utterly disgusting bile never before seen in the annals of American political discourse.

Yeah, see what you made me do.

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