Entitlement is Obama’s pedigree and arrogance is his social entreaty. He has a sense of style. Style can kill when it is exaggerated. It can go far beyond its actual presence. What we lose is what we get in replacement for what was always missing.
It’s like that when you think that you climbed Mt. Everest after you merely walked up Bear Mountain. It’s like that when self-evaluation is warped and you can’t see the straight line through the curvature.
Obama is posture without spine; show without substance; rhetoric without meaning.
Obama will huff and puff but he won’t blow your brain down because a simple mind has no propulsion. He is a sophomore sitting in the back of the class, failing, thinking about when he can get his next joint.
I’d like to fly an Obama blimp in the Macy’s Day Parade. Helium is a showy float of narcissism. He loves himself so much that he could fly away. I wish he would. Instead he lands on our heads. We realize that some of us realize that we blew him up to bring us down.
Obama is a propped up and structured façade. He is the house after the house has fallen down and a film set crew has rebuilt his hollow appearance. He has all the genuineness of the false and all the fakery of those who would lay it on.
He showed up on a loose night when all the stars were hiding in the clouds and pickpocketed the morals and the finances from the naïve codicil of the true believers, those who don’t question. They voted for him before he stole their traditions from them. And then voted for him again after he stole their values and their economy.
He got a Nobel Prize before he failed. “Peace” is not a word. It is a disposition that runs against his grain. Disputation is the sharp elbows of his debate.
Drones are cute. So are Obama’s speeches. Both kill.
He talked about the red and blue states getting together while he blamed all his mistakes on Republicans. He reached out his hand with a buzzer in it. Shocking. A personal joke.
I remember his acceptance speech in Denver. Not really. Rhetoric doesn’t last. Hollowness is fluff and floats away into the Rockies like light snow.
When Obama lied to the groupies dancing in the sky about the health care act they pretended that it wasn’t a lie until they couldn’t deny it any longer. They ostriched their heads into holes so they wouldn’t have to see their rock and roll star hanging from his guitar strings and his band of backup Democrats.
You voted for him. You now make fun of him like Johnny-come-lately Jon Stewart. You forget that you and Jon are the reason he is here, that you are him. And that you can’t live down the way he pulled our strings like a marionette that wanted to tangle us in his naïve progressive ideas.
Even the Washington Post gives him four Pinocchio’s. Instead of picking their noses he picks our pockets and turns our social customs inside out.
Obama is all that glitters when you have taken away the gold. He is a pan of empty gravel. He is footsteps on the rocky road to failure.
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