I was shocked, SHOCKED (merci, Claude Rains) to learn about a week ago that Pelosi prop Sandra Fluke was urged to run for office, and said she would consider doing so. Wait, there’s more. I also recently learned that breakfast cereals geared towards children are not as nutritious as the likes of Shredded Wheat and Product 19, professional football is considered very risky for elderly, overweight women, and Jimi Hendrix didn’t die of natural causes.
I would’ve written about this sooner, but a chance collision with a feather landed me in the hospital.
This week could end with me contracting scurvy and my car throwing a rod, but I’ll still be beaming wide from the Christ-whipping Obama’s Solicitor General got from SCOTUS’ better half. Honestly, if he had stuttered a second longer I would’ve thought it was Barack himself stuck there pleading the government’s case.
Speaking of which, anybody else wonder what was going through the president’s mind the first two days of arguments? I’d guess something like “man, that Scalia is one tough customer. Maybe an autographed copy of each of my books would sweeten him up.” How about Biden? “Man, that Scalia is one tough customer. Hopefully the other 10 judges might be more reasonful.”
Haven’t seen Spike Lee here in Relevance for a while. Let’s welcome him back and congratulate him for finally beating Reggie Miller in the Humiliate Spike Lee Open. If the little bigot succeeds in getting George Zimmerman lynched, I’m not sure if he’ll become a pariah in the entertainment world, but if he does he can always fix that by finding a 13-year-old girl to drug and sodomize.
Getting back to the other minority object of misplaced accolades, it’s been a while since Obama last tried to rank himself among any of his far better predecessors (AKA presidents #1 through 43). Since the guy seems determined to relieve millions of people, especially historians, of their position of defining his place in history, I’m going to take this opportunity to chime in.
Now, space won’t permit, nor will etiquette, a thorough and precise account of the sheer badness of Obama’s administration; conversely, “it stunk” is too simplistic and un-historian-like. My solution is to nickname him.
Think about the various nicknames we’ve given our commanders-in-chief over the last 2+ centuries: Father of His Country; Honest Abe; Tricky Dick; Slick Willie; The Great Communicator; Silent Cal; Old Kinderhook; Teddy; Ike; FDR; JFK; LBJ. Just as you’d do with any average person, I submit the easiest way to label a C.I.C. can be based on one of three categories: a personal trait, a positive accomplishment, or his initials.
We’ll just start by ruling out the initials, since the choices are BO (see “it stunk” above) and BHO, which is a tad too close to the band who warned that we ain’t seen nothing yet, and that’s enough reason for me. It would appear that the accomplishment category is off the table as well, seeing that his positives are limited to approving the capture/death of Osama bin Laden (which would happen with any POTUS unless he were an infant or a coma patient) and freeing millions of Americans from the burden of having to answer to a boss. Fortunately for Monday morning historians like me, identifying Obama’s personal traits is easy. It’s the *putting up with them* that takes real effort.
One thing I’ve noticed a lot is his habit of making illogical, baseless, and nonsensical statements with an authoritative tone. My early favorite was his suggestion that the pain of extremely high gas prices can be alleviated by simply getting a tune-up and inflating your tires. (To be fair, performing these tasks could possibly work, provided you don’t drive anywhere afterward.) Then there’s all those jobs he “saved or created.” While he certainly believes he is both a Creator and a Savior, if you’re going to make that kind of shameless, non-provable claim, you may as well boast that one of those jobs was Bigfoot’s. And let’s not forget how if it weren’t for Obama’s policies, the economy would’ve been far worse than it is. I’ve been searching for the indisputable, fact-based proof justifying this claim, with no success. According to my sources, it was last seen in a Manhatten bistro with Obama’s promise of unemployment under 8%, and both are rumored to be at the bottom of the East River wearing concrete shoes.
With all this pretentious notion-mongering the president has used on us, I think “Commander-in-Theory” might be a fitting nickname. If not, might there be other qualities of his to suggest “Faulter of His Country” or “Blame Duck,” perhaps?
Jeff’s column will be back in July.