The race between Obama and Romney comes down to a choice between a cowardly hypocrite and a depraved moral imbecile. It’s a choice of sorts, I guess, in an America that has hit rock bottom.

. . . is in her eighties now. After a lifetime of hard work and sacrifice as a wife and mother of five, she now lives mostly on Social Security, on which she pays no federal income tax.

Mitt Romney recently described her, on that basis alone, as one of those Americans who see themselves as “victims” and who refuse to “take personal responsibility and care for their lives.”  So much for a lifetime of hard work and sacrifice.

I’m quite sure he hasn’t got the balls to say that to my mom’s face, or to mine.  He only insults decent people like my mom when he thinks he’s talking privately to other rich weasels like himself who secretly despise her for not being as rich as they are.

The only thing as shocking as Romney’s words is the fact that his audience didn’t boo him off the podium or leave the room in disgust and rage — and that there are still people in America who would like to have a man like that as their President.

When my revulsion at Romney’s horrific depravity reaches the limits of what my own command of language can express, I turn to Bob Dylan’s song “Early Roman Kings” for the words I need.  Thanks, Mr. Dylan.

They’re peddlers and they’re meddlers,
They buy and they sell,
They destroyed your city,
They’ll destroy you as well.

If you don’t stop them.

[Photo of my mom by Libba Marrian]

. . . features Romney urinating on homeless Negro sleeping under highway bridge as supporters cheer.

. . . shows Romney taking dump on infant’s face.

Has he gone too far this time?