dc]T[/dc]his is an open letter, a plea, really to those who are bothering me with their hopes and aspirations during this bigtop extravaganza that is to be the final moments of our presidential campaign season. This is not a political piece, asking you to consider the merits of one side — it’s my primal scream to be left alone, kept unsullied through all of this. And there are others like me. Leave us the hell alone — or did I already say that?
I won’t bore you with the manner and excruciating details in which I think Obama has been nothing but a fine bit of trickery — well, maybe a few, I can’t help myself. But that has been done, and well stated. If you were paying attention, you know. He’s got a lot of blood on his perfectly manicured hands. And then I just can’t get past that bit about him wanting to kill the guy in the 80s who had the better business cards — you know, the one with the watermark (bone and ivory, exceptional font). Perhaps that wasn’t him, but I’m pretty sure it was.
Though many simply projected their own desires for a truly liberal candidate the first time around, he certainly did play to their emotional need for something kinder and more decent than W. But the signs were there that he would be no such man. I would advance that the nonsense over TARP was the best indicator that he would be a perfect corporate specimen. I mean, what was it — something like 147% of the American populace hated TARP!?
A candidate would simply have had to say he was against it to likely win the vote (assuming no voting machine hijinks — a big assumption, admittedly). And that’s not to say they would have to really do anything about a stance like that — just gripe about it — even voting against it wouldn’t have changed the tide of corporate-backed sentiment — it would have still passed. It’s pretty telling that he wouldn’t chance it. That would probably have made the corporate lords way too nervous.
That sort of mendacity should have killed some of the “hope” for Obama, or at least caused some more scrutiny, but a lot of people started up with the internal denial machine at that point. Then they didn’t even seem to compute his employment of so many Goldman-Sachs alumni, and the unemployment of so many fellow citizens. And the wars, the wars…..I wish I could remember who said that Obama got that Nobel on credit. That was brilliant. And now he really should have it repossessed for non-payment on all accounts.
But of course criticism of the man becomes the most disgusting of verbs in the pantheon of liberal expectations. I’m talking about Nadering. Any concern about charlatans and the desire not to give them aid or comfort makes you one of those damn Nadering spoilers. You’re either for us or against us. Where have I heard that kind of thing before?
Even the media reps for each side have a funhouse mirror quality about them. On the one side, you have the bloviating Rush, sassy from his new Missouri statue. Show me a state that would put a statue up of that guy. And near Mark Twain! When Rush looks into the trick mirror he sees Bill Maher — a twiggy vegetarian version of himself — kinda freaky, those mirrors. Both blind to anything not in their respective divide-and-conquer agenda. Sure, Rush is more viscerally hideous, but $1,000,000 to Obama? Might as well just buy your own damn drones to bomb people with when you’ve got that kind of cash — leave out the middleman. But then Maher’s a real free speech champion, except for when he’s not. And really, if you clear your mind — both of the asses seem to have problems with women. But it’s in the narrative that “liberals” don’t, even when they clearly do. Rush and Bill, just a Duke and a King, really.
Ah, but my disgust at all of this isn’t enough to stop those around me from the belligerent “do you really want to see a Romney presidency? Do you want women to go straight to the dark ages?” Well, call me crazy, but the dark ages have made some impressive inroads during Obama’s reign.
But, true — oh, that Romney! You have to really wonder about the choice of such a repellent candidate. It becomes fantastic theater when choices like this are made, arousing passions with amazing predictability. In a nation that is said to choose by virtue of whom they would like to sit down and drink beer with, they have picked a man that you can’t even have a cup of coffee with. Religion precludes, and all that.
If his prep school plane should crash on an island, he’s not only the guy who would kill Piggy (or get others to do it), but he would cannibalize the body, Bain style, my friend.
And on that note, how dare he address working stiffs with “corporations are people, my friend”? How is that anything but an exercise in self indulgence on his part? A mantra which brings him illicit pleasure. Of course it makes him happy to talk like that. Oh, and he needs to stop addressing us in the familiar tú form — he never earned that. “But he’s speaking English” you say. I’m still not fooled — the bastard needs some boundaries. I’d like to fire him.
But my intention is not to stop you from voting. My intent is to stop you from pestering me.
Posted: Wednesday, 23 May 2012