Greg Gutfeld comes across as a rich spoiled college kid. An elitisit. He knows, and we know, that he does not fit in with those bikers (being the cocktail party commentator that he is), so whenever any of us regular folks go out for a ride to let people know how we feel, even if it is just for one day, he cannot help himself. The problem is at such a gut-level, that it slips out in the comments he makes.
We cannot give elitists a pass any more. That is why we are in this mess now. People will say, well Gutfield has been on our side on other issues, ONLY when we do not get in the way, when we actually show up, SEE how they act!! What has me upset, is that there was no reason for him to do that. Those bikers were not causing any harm to anyone and millions upon millions of Americans supported them, so what was HIS motive, why slight these people for no reason?
Was he trying to be the “Miley Cyrus” of the Five by shocking and being provocative?
Gutfeld is a pro, saying just enough of the right things to make people think he is okay, but peel away that layer, and he is just another elitist that would not piss on you if you were on fire and that is just the truth of it. I promise you if he was honest, he would not stand Sarah either. He has zero women like her in his life.
This is all part of an attitude that should continue to bother us, but we must continue doing what we’re doing, and supporting one another’s efforts. Just because someone is from a haughty college does not mean they should put on airs or feel superior. An IVY league degree does not make anyone more educated either. One of wonderful things about this movement is that regular folks are on center stage in Sarah’s vision of America, not the other way around.
Luckily, we have not only Sarah but many with a great attitude about what needs to change, not only in Washington, but in us. This is a tribute to the Bikers:
Here are copies of the tweets.
David Aaron Batten™@dmbatten37m
NO LONGER FOLLOWING=>@greggutfeld
Greg Gutfeld bashed riders on The Five. Think I’ll pass on his new bookGregGutfeld@greggutfeld35m
@greggutfeld35m@greggutfeld35m@dmbatten and u would have really liked it! Oh well. 😦
David Aaron Batten™@dmbatten32m
You don’t bash patriots whether they’re on Bikes or pogo sticks. No one in this admin is remembering 911 murders, bikers are.
what? I love bikers. I hate pogo sticks. U crazy!David Aaron Batten™@dmbatten22m
David Aaron Batten™@dmbatten25mDude
, You’re in over your head. Calling #2MillionBikerstoDC a publicity stunt when you should have been praising them.
@greggutfeld @Traumaguy1965 not true. Praised them. Then told tweeters to relax. How’s that a slam kiddo.
Keith from da Burgh@Traumaguy196510m
@greggutfeld my biggest issue was slamming your followers. THAT was the disrespectful part. Assholes & Opinions, The Beauty of AMERICA.Keith from da Burgh@Traumaguy19657m
@greggutfeld BTW, “Kiddo’s” are the people, like me, who wait to see you & buy your books. Slam away… lot of pissed off “kiddos.
@greggutfeld i’m a big fan but s.t. u make silly comments.Bikers 2DC was a big deal. you’re lucky 2have 2shows and column 2 express yourself.
GregGutfeld@greggutfeld1h @isabelmmatos I am lucky!
Carl was not happy “I am lucky, what a sh*t head comment, all about him not one comment that maybe perhaps he was out of line!!!!!”
By the end of the day, it was clear, that Greg had made the rudest comment, but he is not alone. Slights, digs and jabs are common among elitist journalists like Bill Kristol, talk show hosts like OReilly and Laura Ingraham, and authors and commentators like Ann Coulter. Jedediah Bila probably said it best. 9/11 for her was about Unity. Some of that is missing in certain circles where unity has become a team of them against us.
Aerial View of the Muslim March on 9/11 via Clint Fox
2 Million Bikers to DC BAD TO THE BONE VIDEO (H/T Lisa Luerssen)
And this is the story Carl would have liked to see reported instead (from Sara Carter, The Blaze):
Things don’t always work out the way we plan. Thank goodness they don’t. And this Sept. 11th — 12 years since the terrorist attacks that took the lives of thousands of Americans and set the United States on a path of several wars that would last more than a decade — I learned that lesson again when I jumped on the back of a stranger’s motorcycle only to realize that we had a common bond that couldn’t be broken.
Mitch Hannon was that biker. He saw the confused look on my face as I was scouring Constitution Ave. trying to find the “Million Muslim” marchers that had planned to converge at The Mall in Washington D.C. I was sitting at a red light in a taxi cab, with a jovial driver, who happened to be Muslim. “I don’t think you will find any Muslim marchers out here today — not today,” he said.
It was hot. I had already been looking for protestors for more than an hour but all I could find were bikers, thousands of bikers. “Have you seen the Muslim marchers,” I yelled from my taxi-cab window over the rumbling of the motorcycles. “No, we can’t find them anywhere,” said Hannon, who I had just met. “Why do you ask?”
I told him I was a reporter. The light changed to green and I thought, “here I go again.” I was about to yell “thank you” when Hannon pulled alongside the taxi and said, “Get out of that taxi and jump on the back of my bike.”
On impulse, I did just that. It so happens Hannon was a former flight attendant for American Airlines. On September 11, 2001 his friends Ken and Jennifer Lewis, who were married and flight attendants themselves, were on flight 77 that crashed into the Pentagon. He had been friends with Ken for nearly 2o years and Jennifer was one of the “sweetest most lively people I’ve ever known.”
Hannon, who is a Chapter 3 member of Virginia’s Rolling Thunder non-profit motorcycle club, recalled some of his most touching memories with his friends as we drove past some of America’s greatest treasures. He retold how he and Ken were ski instructors in Colorado and how they later taught sailing in Maine when they moved to the East Coast. In fact, it was Hannon who helped Ken get a job at American Airlines and “sometimes I think when I’m grumpy, ‘Why wasn’t it me on that flight? Why was it them?’ They were always so happy.”
“Everyone’s life changed that day,” said Hannon as we headed to the nation’s capital, still strangely absent of any Muslim marchers.
“I don’t think there is one person whose life didn’t change in some way that day,” he said. “I’m out here for my friends. I’m out here for every soldier whose given their life, limb and who fights for our country. We want them to know we care. We want them to know they are not forgotten.” It touched my heart.
I told Hannon 9/11 changed my life as well. My husband, Marty, is one of those soldiers who almost lost his life on the battlefield but instead was blinded by a bombing in Afghanistan on Easter Sunday, 2011. Hannon and I were connected. It didn’t matter that we didn’t know each other. We weren’t strangers anymore and we have a common bond forged out of tragedy. We didn’t need to say much as the bike headed down the road, surrounded by thousands of other bikers and American flags waving in the warm September wind.
He recalled how his friend Ken once stopped the car they were driving in to hand remove a Cicada bug, a large tree cricket that comes out of hibernation every 17 years, off his windshield. “I asked Ken, ‘Why don’t you just remove it with the window washers,’” Hannon recalled. “You know what Ken said: ‘They have so little life — why take the chance that I might kill it after all that hibernation.’”
We stopped at a second light and along side the road was another biker. He had parked his motorcycle and pulled out a large piece of concrete from a compartment on the back of his bike. Air Force Master Sergeant Bobby Cazmir holding a piece of rock he says is part of the Pentagon that came off during the 9/11 attacks. (Source: Sara Carter)
The biker, Air Force Master Sergeant Bobby Cazmir, walked over to Hannon and me, held the concrete in his hand, and said, “this is a piece of the Pentagon from September 11.”
“I won’t ever forget,” Cazmir added. Hannon couldn’t believe it. “What are the odds that a complete stranger would come up to us, holding a piece of the Pentagon where I lost my closest friends,” Hannon said. “It’s meant to be.” Again, we were comforted by another stranger’s gesture. We were connected.
We kept riding. Still no marchers.
After a while I realized we weren’t going to find any of the “Million Muslim” marchers everyone had talked about for the past week. In fact, I didn’t really care. I was happy to be with Hannon. I was satisfied that the story isn’t about controversy or terrorism or the sadness that it brought to so many of us. The story was about survival.
It was about hope through strength. It was about the thousands of American’s who lined up their motorcycles on the streets of Washington, D.C. It was about those bikers, some who came as far away as the West Coast, to let the rest of the country know that they will never forget. Hannon and I decided to grab some lunch. Getting to ride his Harley, which he named Vanessa, was one of the coolest things I’ve ever done.. continued here: