Reflecting On Obama
By David Lawrence
I feel like writing something bad about Obama. Bad is as bad does and the way it goes is not right. But I’m not really in the mood to think about him. He is cellulite on an amputated stripper’s leg. Choppy endings to his sentences. He bites words like he is chomping on a mouthful of hot air. I have nothing against white lies but Obama is as far from the truth as resurrection is from cure. The fools he kills thank him for helping foolishness and careless Healthcare. Until the naïve patients show up for chemo and they are turned down; until the Independent Advisory Panel votes against their living; until the suckers quit suckering up to the ideology of the poor and start waving a flag of real accomplishment. Until the middle class stops undermining itself by getting wooed by the senators and the President. Obama here and there. Obama everywhere. He is the creep that creeps into your pocket, steals your money, calls it reverse charity. He has the pragmatism of an off course rocket. I’d like to put his progressivism in a locket and toss it out to sea. He is under water. He has brought our economy with him. There was a song in the eighties, “Bad to the Bone.” It predicted Obama. George Thorogood was a fortune teller who predicted America’s unfortunate tale.
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