Requiem For A Bantamweight

Every day more creepy revelations emerge about Barack Obama. First it was his “church” with that nut-job of a pastor. Now it’s his long association with Bernadine Dohrn and the Weather Underground.

It’s no credit to the establishment media that this information is only now starting to dribble out now. It’s almost as though they have been sitting on it, waiting for him to get the lock on the nomination before releasing it, if you get my drift. I wrote in this space months ago that Obama only had a small window of opportunity to get the thing locked up. Once a full inventory is taken of the skeletons inhabiting his spider web-filled closet, a lot of his declared supporters are going to end up with egg on their faces.

Hillary Clinton, though clearly behaving from a motivation of self-interest, still deserves a laurel of recognition for saving the Democratic Party from self-immolation, because spontaneous combustion is the only appropriate descriptive word for what the Democrats would have undergone had she bowed to the Republican-induced campaign to get her to throw in the towel.

If I were a political cartoonist, I would characterize Barack Obama as a slick carnival sideshow barker with a plaid suit, bowler hat and cane from a 1920’s traveling circus, exhorting the thick-necked rubes, deadened from a life of mind-numbing cultural deprivation, to enter the carny tent (maybe Hillary's the fat lady inside ha-ha!) where they would be shortchanged and fleeced, only to find the next day that the show had vanished.

It’s The Twilight Zone, with a huge dose of Theodore Dreiser and Sinclair Lewis thrown in for good measure, and not a little Federico Fellini (I’m thinking of the pilgrims going bananas at the site of the “miracle”). A smooth-talking guy appears out of Chicago (where else?), creates a firestorm of fanatical enthusiasm in a devoted following of cult believers and goes down in flames. It’s pure Americana, even to the point of an evil, insidious force working the controls from behind the curtain, The Wizard of Oz.

I have a lovely friend on my job who is a True Believer of Obama. The guy is an admitted attorney and conventionally intelligent, so it’s scary and disconcerting to me when he exhorts me, eyes gleaming, “Barack Obama will be our greatest president.”

Whoa, baby, let me have some of what you’re smoking so we can get on the same level. Based on what???

He goes on, “People who have heard Obama give one speech have declared they are switching over to him!!” Sorry, but that sounds to this observer like aliens taking over people’s minds, or Scientologist auditing. When I suggested to the guy that Obama might have had more success by working with the Clintons and the Democratic apparatus, and displaying a little patience, he brushed that off.“That’s the old politics.Obama wants to install a new system.” Yeah, with him at the top of it. Where have I heard that before?

This hackneyed American myth of a figure emerging from the heartland with no establishment ties is made to measure for a false idol with nothing to recommend him but a smooth line to bamboozle the suckers. Add to it Obama’s lock on the black electorate, though I’m sure that’s not as monolithic as it might seem to an outside white person like myself. All families feel that they are exclusive, and myself, being the ultimate solitary loner, am not even admitted to the deliberations of white families, so I can only avail myself of the writer’s suppositions. Still, I can envision plenty of arguments at black dinner tables throughout the nation, where the older generation, not so thoroughly impressed with Obama, whom more than a few of them would mockingly deride as “high yeller” or “house Negro,” a smooth door-to-door vacuum cleaner salesman working his magic on mamma while daddy is out driving a truck.

Any mature black person who would dare to recall the friendship shown to the black electorate by the Clintons probably runs the risk of being unmercifully taunted by the younger generation, rarely at a loss for words, who would tend to see in Obama the sterling validation of their own ambitions and aspirations.

In terms of the white Obama supporters, their motivation for genuflecting in his presence is obviously the nostalgia of the older ones for a Kennedy and the desire on the part of the younger ones, who only know Kennedy as history, to want to be inspired, so through a process of transference they have focused their desire onto Obama, just as a lovelorn woman focuses her desire to have romance onto an undeserving object of affection who is ultimately ruinous to her.

Since this country’s manufacturing base has mostly left for points east anyway, and most jobs today involve what are laughably referred to as “social skills”, it sort of dovetails with Obama’s own record of non-achievement. After law school he went to work as a “community organizer” (what did he exactly organize? Again, it sort of sounds like mostly talking, if I may be permitted to inject an element of levity). Then, according to the account, he refused to go to work for wheeler-dealer Tony Rezco, then he did some “legal work” for Rezco, then he bought a house, with Rezco’s involvement, for a deep-discounted $1.3 million. Sorry, but Al Sharpton aside, I wasn’t aware of “community organizers” buying million-dollar mansions unless what they were organizing were real estate deals.

Anybody who believes that Republican politicians, who are themselves no slouches at flipping Chicago real estate (remember House Speaker Dennis Hastert, whose specialty was that city’s western suburbs adjacent to O’Hare Airport?) have not gotten to the heart of Obama’s real estate proclivities probably believes that the moon is made out of Wisconsin cheddar. No doubt the Republicans, who spared no expense to investigate the Clintons’ Arkansas activities over the course of several years, ultimately coming up empty, will not have ignored Obama’s Rezco connection, probably planning to serve up that little morsel to the electorate as well, as part of their planned smorgasbord menu of select Obama canapés in the fall.

It’s one of the little ironies of the Obama campaign that the exodus he is leading us on out of the enchainment of conventional politics should ultimately terminate in the first entirely brokered convention in fifty years, but that is exactly where this process is heading. What we are essentially faced with is the prospect of arm-twisting, horse trading and deal making on an unprecedented scale not observed since H.L. Mencken, driven to praying on his knees for deliverance after fifty inconclusive ballots at the 1928 Republican convention, was finally rewarded with Herbert Hoover. This process plays to the strengths of the Clintons, with Obama unmercifully overmatched. Unless I miss my guess, the 2008 Democratic convention in Denver should produce a riveting soap opera to delight political junkies for generations to come. Forget Theodore White. This is the best and the worst of times.

Hillary Clinton Panders To Anti-(space)Alien Extremists!
click here:
http://www.200motels.net/hil.html

GIULIANI'S PANTIES! click here:
http://www.200motels.net/RUDY.html

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Posted on 4/27/2008 ( Permanent Link )
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