Not In Our House, Mr. President

Not since JFK has a president cut such a dashing figure in a tuxedo.

 

Barack Obama's  megawatt smile created such electricity at the state dinner honoring Chinese President Hu that we might forget that simultaneous to that gala affair, other events occurred back in Mainland China.

 

As Michelle Obama helped Mrs. Hu spread caviar on a piece of onion toast, a young village girl outside of  Xiang  Province is handcuffed to a gurney.

 

Government doctors inject the general anesthetic, and in a few minutes, the remnant body parts of her unborn child will be deposited in the dumpster behind the hospital. Exceeding the one child limit leads to another forced abortion.

 

The crab-stuffed croissants are to die for, don't you think, Secretary  Clinton? Tell President Hu that we obtained  the recipe from the Ritz Carlton Hotel in Hong Kong.

 

And just 75 miles north of Hong Kong, two families gathered for Bible study are jolted by the sound of a battering ram at the front door. Soldiers with bayonets seize the holy books. A small child watches in wide-eyed fear as her father is led away in handcuffs. Five years hard labor awaits him, if he's lucky.

 

Here is another contrast of events. As our president leads a salute to the Chinese president, he sips from a glass of champagne that we paid for at $2000 a bottle.

 

 At that precise moment, the Chinese government holds tens of thousands of political prisoners in barbaric prisons and torture chambers disguised as mental hospitals. The World Psychiatric Association has condemned China's abuse of psychiatry as a political weapon.

 

As the world hurtled toward a global conflict with a madman in 1938, Britain's Neville Chamberlain deluded himself into thinking he could deal rationally  with Adolph Hitler.

 

He was wrong.

 

Look, we know that China is an important world power. It is probably impossible to ignore the leader of the world's largest nation.

 

But we indirectly endorse policies of murder and torture when we break out the candelabra and the good silver for the world's leading purveyor of human misery.

 

President Hu wore the finest clothes at the presidential banquet and smelled of the finest Cologne.

 

But as far as I am concerned, those fine linen tablecloths were dripping with blood.

 

Looking through a truth lens, I saw  forceps, electric cattle prods, and a gruesome array of human remains surrounding the Chinese president.

 

And I am distressed to see the leader of history's greatest democracy joking, complimenting, and making merry at his side.

 

Have a meeting with the man if you must, Mr. President, but don't entertain him in Our House.

 

I don't want my president spattered by  atrocities dripping from the hands of immoral leaders.

 

I remember a President who once intoned "Tear down this wall, Mr. Gorbachev!"

 

 It sometimes takes Chutzpah to stand up to despots.

 

 Draw the line, Mr. President, draw the line.