One of the primary, and indeed moral, obligations of the President of the United States is to provide leadership. And in troubling times that means being a captain courageous, and standing tall. It means giving your people that hope you so incessantly promised them as you pandered for their vote, and reassuring them. Not only for the calming effect this has on your nation of individuals, but the calming effect it has on your financial markets and institutions and all of the global institutions interdependent on you.
FDR certainly understood this when he said the only thing we have to fear is fear itself. We can discuss at length the efficacy and wisdom of his subsequent policies, but the man had that first class temperament for which he is justly honored, and would never have spoken to the people in the ass-puckering, spine-chilling, apocalyptic terms we hear from Barack Obama.
As I am constantly reminded by a cacophony of voices both vacuous and vague, Barack Obama is a brilliant man. Therefore I can only conclude that his constant negative harping, his chronic ringing of the death knell, his utterly grave pronouncements that we are in the midst of catastrophe and crisis and disaster, are either the ravings of a brilliant lunatic, or the calculated murmurings of a fucking amoral creep.
If the world belched a sigh of satisfaction and delight upon his election, and all is now right with the universe, then why has the market crashed 2,000 points since his election?
Because he projects no confidence. In himself, in his team, in his country. And why? Because all social engineers require crisis in order to implement unpopular, irrational, or goddam insane fixes. This nutter's fiscal budget equals in excess of $25,000 per taxpayer. If that isn't the definition of insane I'm the fucking Mad Hatter. This fruitstand preacher sold the addlepated masses a huge bill of goods, and yet his forebearance does not even rise to the level of protecting their meager purses from deliberate and egregious harm based on his terrible proclamations.
He's a real fucking pal, this guy.
Again, lest my pursed and foam-flecked lips not translate precisely to the written word: this malevolent bastard is calmly and intentionally sabotaging our livelihoods, our accrued wealth, and our childrens' and grandchildrens' birthrights for the arrogant and selfish purpose of implementing his socialist agenda, and in so doing erecting monuments in his mind to his historical Black Liberation Greatness. Our Alinsky the Lesser has no smaller vision than to tear the fabric of this nation apart if necessary, in order to rebuild it upon the vapid and sophomoric musings of his silly little mentors, so that future generations may marvel at his bold masterstrokes.
Observe: even a cursory reading of the Ayers-ghosted natterings of Barack Obama reveal a quick but insecure mind, readily subsumed by the pontifications of others he presumes to be his superiors. He is a naif stroked by the purrings of his agenda-driven masters. Egoism and self-doubt are a volatile combination, no more so than when the sad pathetic creature is constantly reassured of his own fucking awesomeness, and can without a hint of irony fiddle while his Rome burns.
In essence, Barack Obama would be a far superior leader if he would just shut the fuck up, and allow the gears and cogs and magnetos of capitalism to correct the course, and slowly rebuild the wealth of the nation. Which, if a healthy nation is his desire, he could do most easily.
Of course, this seedy grifter desireth it not. He intends to beat the fucking bongo of bitterness, and will burn the village that is this nation, in order to save it in his own likeness.
Obama would be wise to venture outside of his palace, and eschew the ministrations of his handlers and sycophants: there is a gutswell of opprobrium for this shallow man and his shallow plans. A wellspring among those grassroots the left so loftily took for granted when they were merely the impersonal proletariat. Before this is all over Barack Obama may indeed turn America upside down, but not in the manner he intended. And this will not be brother against brother. This will be the indignant, abused, condescended upon masses of millions turning upon the elite one thousand in the great swamp city. One can only take so much from a person by force, and bequeath to another by fiat, before even the mildest of men will cry enough. Where pools the tar? Where, by God, are the feathers?
Posted by Velociman at February 27, 2009 5:59 PM