Saturday, April 04, 2009

I'M NO GOOD AT MULTI-TASKING --
THERE'S TOO MUCH GOING ON,

IT'S COMING ON TOO FAST,

HOW DOES ONE ADDRESS THE AVALANCHE
OF HORRORS?...


Well, we could start with Michelle's sweaters.


She began promisingly enough, leaving Washington in what may be her best fashion experiment yet, the striking black and white suit with the graceful long coat.



But it all kind of went to pieces when she emerged at the other end with her knees poking out from under another one of these peculiar shades of mustard, covered by a faux medieval surcoat. Bleah.



Then the parade of the sweaters began.

First was the demure little black on white number, whic
h was lovely in its way, but more like an elementary school-marm's daily outfit than anybody's idea of the proper dress for meeting the Queen -- or, in Michelle's case, groping the Queen.

Yes, the palace issued calming re-assurances that no protocols were demolished by Mrs. Obama's unprecedented effrontery and violation of the most basic norms of British royalty etiquette. In fact, it was pointed out tha
t the Queen returned the favour. Yeah.

Memo to Michelle's Social Secretary: the Queen has good manners, and 80 yea
rs of experience encountering the public. Her token half-lift of a closed-fisted arm was her way of covering for her crass guest, having more respect for the visitors than they had for her.

Reminded me of the wondrous Calpurnia [the Queen, not Michelle], housekeeper to Atticus Finch and the young'ns, who took Scout to task when she drew attention to Walter Cunningham's over-use of syrup on his dinner. Hissed Calpurnia, "That boy's yo' comp'ny and if he wants to eat up the table cloth you let him, you hear!" The Queen and Calpurnia knew how to treat people, even when they "
commit solecisms that society would never pardon."

You don't touch the Queen. Them's the rules. Even if you tower over her and she looks so cute and helpless down there. She's not any such thing. And she'll still be on her throne when Mr. and Mrs. Chicago Way have been shown the exit door from D.C.


Other sweaters followed, the cute, the weird and ugly, all just peculiarly inappropriate to the image of the First Lady. Jackie Kennedy wouldn't have gone out to walk the dog in any of them.















Why am I fixating on this? Because it's easier than coming to grips with the sheer madness and horror being perpetrated on Mr. Obama's seduced, mocked, and abandoned mistress, the United States of America.


BARACK AND MICHELLE'S MOST
EXCELLENT EXECRABLE ADVENTURE

--or--


LARA ANTIPOVA AND PEOPLE'S COMMANDER STRELNIKOV DO THE GRAND TOUR


What can one say about the first president in American history to go abroad to a major international gathering and (you should pardon the expression) sell the country down the river?

Oh yes, he gave lip service to tsk-tsking Europe for failing to live up to any decent standard of participation (gratitude?) expected of their privileged comfort-status (gift of the U.S.A.?) within the world community to beat back the scourge of Islamofascism. But what most of his slavering anti-American audience came away with was the admission the the big bad U.S. is a big bad bully that went haywire in Iraq and tortured tens of thousands of people in Guantanamo.


Speaking of "lip service", the Great One's teleprompter appears to have been suffering from jet-lag, and failed him noticeably at one of his Big Speeches.
Gateway Pundit [more and more my daily go-to guy] has the clip of one pregnant pause, but it's nothing compared to the painful silence after he uttered "liberté" because he couldn't come up with "egalité, fraternité" on his own, in his repugnant comparison of our respective national mantras -- despite Jefferson's spasm of theoretical fondness for the bloodshed of revolutions, I doubt he would have tolerated it if "life, lberty, and the pursuit of happiness" had been born in the shadow of Madame La Guillotine. (Slide forward to minute 6:40 -- the pause that refreshes...)



John Crace
at the decidedly left-leaning U.K. Guardian seems to have noticed the Emperor's awkward nudity, and fisked his halting performance mercilessly. Enjoy.

I checked with
TOTUS (Obama's Teleprompter's blog site) and it's not admitting anything about its obvious lapses (how arrogant!), but one of its commenters, called TruthWillWin, coined a wonderful moniker for the Big Guy: "Reader of the Free World." Heh.

What we saw there was the foreign policy equivalent of the coach of a far-and-away best hockey team [for instance, the 24-time Stanley Cup winning Montreal Canadiens] going to a league meeting and volunteering to only suit up a 14-year-old goalie with no helmet and bed-pillows for pads, just to make it "fair" for everybody else. Yeah, that will win friends and respect for your team. Not to mention inviting the Philadelphia Flyers to move in and break the kid's neck. Now
THAT'S strategery.

President Obambi announced to his Strasbourg town hall audience that among his aims was to repair the supposedly "drifting" relationship between America and its NATO allies, and getting Europe to step up to the plate in the fight against terrorism. He announced that the G20 meeting was a success. That was a lie.
Sweetness and Light sums up the scope of his abject failure to win over his European hosts.

Most egregious of all was his throw-away characterization of six years in which, through wrenching trial and considerable error, Iraq has been transformed into a functioning, genuinely multicultural if infant democracy through blood, toil, tears, and sweat of the American military and their families, as a misadventure upon which we got "SIDETRACKED."

How comforting, how encouraging for my son -- on the job seven days a week, housed in temporary shelters, flying through sand-storms, fixing to broil in the approaching summer, separated from his wife and child for months -- and he not having the worst of the experience by any means -- how wonderful to know that his Commander-in-Chief thinks all of this sacrifice has been for some giant oopsie on which the nation got "sidetracked." Shucks, shrugs Obama -- our bad.


Barack Obama's presidency has broken over the fruited plains like a gia
nt shamal, bringing dirt, darkness, and disorientation, faster than anyone could ever have predicted. Those of us who opposed his election and saw through him from the start likely thought that we might reach this level of impatience, even disgust and outrage, with him in one or two years. That we are there after only two months is absolutely terrifying.

Here's another prediction: by the time the 2010 elections get
into gear, if not before, appearances by the President or members of his party will periodically be met with mass demonstrations and calls of "traitor." Please, Mr. President, surprise me. Make it not so. [I LOVE this picture -- hat-tip Michelle Malkin]

In the last video that confirmed beyond doubt Osama Bin Laden's earthly existence [produced in November 2001, remember!] he uttered his famous horse metaphor: "When people see a strong horse and a weak horse, by nature, they will like the strong horse." Fresh from his triumph on September 11, he was convinced (not without good reason) that America had shrunk into the weak horse.

However, he was in a cave in the mountains of Afghanistan at the time, and George Bush was in the process of replying with a horse metaphor of his own -- to quote Nicely Nicely Johnson, "
I got the horse right here, his name is Paul Revere, and there's a guy that says if the weather's clear,
CAN DO
!!!!"



We could, and we did, though it's true enough to say that we could have finished it up better. [Apparently there was too much argument in the war room about whether to put the bet on Epitaph or Valentine....] However, may I point out, what we did in Afghanistan in 2001 -- blow in, overthrow bad guys, put local government in place, set up election, blow out -- is
EXACTLY what the Monday-morning quarterbacks in Washington and the newsrooms were saying we should have done in Iraq. I'm just sayin'....

In my quest for the "strong horse/weak" horse quote, I ran across a prescient speech made by columnist-to-the-world and boy genius Mark Steyn in Berkeley a couple of years ago, on the occasion of the 23rd annual Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz Memorial Lectureship in National Security Affairs. If you think the title's long, the lecture was 50 minutes, and the questions another 40 -- but it's worth every minute of your time to watch and listen. I provide it here as a public service. As they say in Mr. Steyn's home state of New Hampshire, Live Free or Die.


Meanwhile back at the ranch, Congress passes the Generational Theft Act, robs medical personnel of their rights of conscience, throws money at felonious ACORNS, and presides over galloping unemployment. And the State Department
slams the door on a courageous and loyal Iraqi interpreter's bid to seek asylum (read: survival) in the United States. Nice.

Oh, and Wall Street teeters in continuing insecurity, taking only a mild breather while Barack the Obarometer of Doom is out of town, and Joe ("I wish I were as intelligent as the similarly-named plumber") the Creepy Veep is being kept marginalized and relatively quiet.
Oh, and did I mention that President Obumsfeld is trying to fight another war on the cheap? So says the man who knows, Michael Yon.

Finally, America begins to see what it means to live under Mob Rule, as carefully illustrated by classical historian, California farmer, and increasingly pissed-off dude, Victor Davis Hanson.

If you're not scared of these folks, friends, and what the future under their domination holds for us all, you ought to be. It has indeed happened too fast -- I had thought that it would take at least six months or more to answer my fundamental question, has Obama been the user or the used?

Did he sit through the Rev. Wright's sermons, and write (if he did) the essentially racist roll-out of his early life in biography #1 because he really believed that stuff, or because he knew that pretending to do so would position him for the fast-track to political power?
Is he the starry-eyed golden boy of master manipulators like Bill Ayers and the Chicago-way activists, who took one look at him and made him their child-star goose that would lead them to the golden egg of ultimate power? Or is he the master manipulator himself, who made a bee-line for the Windy City and its ruthless machine, and sought out the power brokers who could shoulder him along on the sedan-chair of dirty tricks to the mountain-top from whence he could roll out the Revolution?

I'm going for the latter -- it's only two months, and that's my final answer. On the one hand, he's NOT brilliant (no matter what Bill O'Reilly says) because unfortunately you don't have to be to hoodwink half the American electorate. And no one who is brilliant would have made such a headlong amateurish hash of his first 30 days, nor would he believe the utter crap philosophy to which the man adheres. And he is both an ignoramous about world history, and nothing short of a fool on foreign policy.


But he does have
cunning, and he is a hardcore leftist ideologue who will stop at nothing to achieve his transformation of Amerikka. And he is, by the way, a garden-variety Chicago-way political thug.

"I won."

"Don't think we're not keeping score, brother."

"My administration is the only thing between you and the pitchforks."

He won the votes (though he bought some of them with illegal money) and he certainly won the war for media attention and advocacy -- nobody held a gun to the mainstream media's heads and forced them into their slobbering obsession with him. I had no desire to hate him, and to tumble into a dose of Obama Derangement Syndrome. When he began rebuilding the Clinton administration I thought he was at least wise enough to know that he was in over his head. Silly me. I underestimated his raw arrogance. He is a dangerous man, and there will be hell to pay in some form or other. Right now, I can only think of one thing to advise him -- to beg him, even.


[Salty language alert -- ladies, avert your eyes.]

Or if you can't quite handle that, there's always this:

Semper Fi, but nearly FUBAR.