Friday, February 20, 2009

And tell me now,
thou naughty varlet,

tell me,

where has thou been this month?

Falstaff, Henry IV,1

Hard to believe, it's been a month since the coronation of Emperor Obambi the First. (First Emperor of the U.S. -- I believe the last monarch was a mere king, name of Garfield Goose.) Things have been happening [read: "spinning out of control"] so fast there's hardly been time to make any predictions. I wish I'd made mine back when they started to occur to me -- I'd sound so smart now.

To wit:

1) Obama's first term will see double-digit inflation.

2) Obama's first term will see double-digit unemployment.

3) Obama's first term will see some type of foreign policy disaster in the wake of America's image being transformed into the "weak horse" of UBL's dreams, thanks to the President morphing into the Groveller-in-Chief. (Even Joe Biden had the first part of t
hat figured out, so it's OFFICIALLY a no-brainer.)

4) Obama's first term will be the only one he gets.
I thought these things would come true, but I also thought it would take a year or so to become obvious. At this point 1 and 2, and possibly even 3, may come true before Christmas.

You almost feel sorry for the guy. Almost.

All through his preposterous ascendancy of the past year I have been unable to figure out whether he is a cold and calculating dissembler, deliberately seducing the nation with a charm that masques both insincerity and a deeply radical agenda; OR he was and remains an idealistic and not so very bright instrument in the hands of machievellian leftists who found in him their perfect vehicle for societal transformation, and have buoyed him along atop the mosh pit of ivy-league credentialing and Chicago politicking, eventually positioning him to be the figurehead of their long-awaited revolution; OR a bit of both.

I still don't know for sure. But the whirlwind of disaster he has reaped in just a few short weeks leads to me to believe that he is both more ideologically-driven and more dangerously clueless than my worst imaginings. And now he spins, in his little paper boat, awash in a thousand little hypocrisies and big blunders and experience-gaps, with nobody to blame but his own ambition, bombast, and half-page resumé.

Poor little O-man. He thought it was going to be all grace, and finesse, and smooth skating to the oohs and ahs of the adoring crowd. A little of this...

...and some more of this...

...and a whole lot of this -- colour, panache, and pretty, pretty people.

Then, even before he was inaugurated, the wheels came off the zamboni, the cabinet nominees started dropping like flies, and it all began to look a lot like this...

and way, WAY too much like this:

The assessments have been fairly, um, icy:

Victor Davis Hanson defines Irony and recommends Oxygen.

The ordinarily composed Anchoress detects a Coup.

Krauthammer deplores the alternate Fearmongering and Cringing.

And Mr. Gateway Pundit delivers non-stop shots to the administration solar plexus. Read 'em all.

All this clarity, however, has not prevented the 24/7 worship-fest from continuing:

Kathleen Parker hitches a ride on Air Force One, and reports on her Obamagasm at the Daily Beast.

But over at ABC, talking head Terry Moran goes one better -- in fact, he pretty much one-ups the whole world -- suggesting a parallel between George Washington and Barack Obama, insofar as the presidency is a "step down" for this man who led a "giant movement."

That's Obama, in case you were confused.

Never mind that the only giant movement Barack Obama encountered in his career as a cog in the Chicago machine was the one he stepped in when he publicly allied himself with Bill Ayers, Jeremiah Wright, Tony Rezko, and Fr. Pfleger.

Yes, remember where you heard it first, folks. Mr. Obama, the Messiah, the Chosen One, the Man-Child who owns the Promised Land, lowered himself to become our President. Well, bully for him.

Now, Mr. Obama isn't responsible for Terry Moran's bout of degrading delusional tongue-bathing (to use a Mark Steyn-ism). But he does seem to have bought into his own myth, even in these recent troubled weeks when his leadership has been tested and found wanting -- I get the sense he hasn't even noticed that. Just days ago I received an email from the man himself, recounting how the wonders of the Porkulus Bill were miraculously delivered. Said he:
Today, I signed the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act into law.

This is a historic step -- the first of many as we work together to climb out of this crisis -- and I want to thank you for your resolve and your support.

You organized thousands of house meetings. You shared your ideas and personal stories. And you informed your friends and neighbors about the need for immediate action. You continue to be a powerful voice for change throughout the country.

The recovery plan will create or save 3.5 million jobs, provide tax cuts for working and middle-class families, and invest in health care and clean energy.

It's a bold plan to address a huge problem, and it will require my vigilance and yours to make sure it's done right.

I've assigned a team of managers to oversee the implementation .....
[A team of managers. Oh God, now we know we're really in trouble. Alinsky taught him well. And "thousands of house meetings"? Really? You know what -- I don't believe that for a minute. I know there was a big "call to service" before the inauguration -- in fact I saw him flogging it on a TV ad today -- way to spend the people's tax dollars, Mr. President. But, I'm sorry, I think he's just fantasizing. It's a thing you learn when you make your living as a community organizer. He goes on:]
Our progress will also be measured by the tens of thousands of personal stories submitted by people who are struggling to make ends meet. If you haven't already, you can read stories from families all across the country:

Your stories are the heart of this recovery plan, and that's what I'll focus on every day as President.
Could you just hurl? What is this guy, a Sixth Grade social studies teacher? And, sorry -- I just don't buy any of it.

Oh mercy.


New Attorney General and star of Chaucer's The Pardoner's Tale, Eric Holder, began his tenure as Chief Heap Big Lawyer by doing what Obama-style leftists do best: telling Americans how rotten they are. Apparently we're all cowards because we're afraid to talk about race.


Well, one thing. I am not a race coward, so I will say it, though I stand alone.

I thought Aretha Franklin's hat at the Inauguration was just FABULOUS. The colour was tastefully understated, but the size and design were exactly what she needed to be seen way up in the crow's nest (NO NO NOT A RACIAL EPITHET!!!!!) of the inaugural stage arrangements, where all the musicians had to stand (REGARDLESS OF RACE!). It was a classic Sunday-go-to-meetin' hat (or Saturday if you're a Sabbath-keeper), and I thought it was terrific.

You go, girl.


T'other weekend the spousal unit and I were invited to a friendly wine-tasting. There was a quiz about the vintages (referred to by our host as "Clinton era California Cabernets"), and the prize was a set of cookies iced with a familiar image (now the subject of copyright litigation.)

I decided to employ them in an interpretive photo essay expressing the progress of Mr. Obama's first month as Chief Executive and Leader of the (for the moment) Free World.

There was a little bit of this...

...and then it went like this...

Then we moved on to this....

And it all came to this.

And it was stale. And flavorless. And Lord knows it was thin -- "a sight to behold in the age of obesity."

Then there were nothing but crumbs left. Kinda says it all.

Oh, and I almost forgot -- LAST PREDICTION:

5) Obama's first term will witness a Kristallnacht in Europe and around the world to make the last one look like the Teddy Bears' Picnic.

No comments: