Someone asked me what I want for Christmas. I said, "No, not 'want'. Demand. Biatch." Just kidding.
Yesterday I heard part of Oblahblah's press conference. Contrary to prevailing conservative opinion, it was not a meltdown. Dude's way too cool to melt. He's the sort who ablates, from a solid straight to a gas -- just becomes more and more insubstantial, like he's translating himself into a higher dimensional plane, far beyond the one we mere and materialistic Americans are condemned to inhabit. During the Time of Pronouncements, some instrument of the press, the O-press, asked O if what he was doing -- some sort of deal where extended unemployment welfare would be given in exchange for not taking more money away from people who have earned it -- was just "the politics of the moment."
Obama said, "This isn't the politics of the moment. This has to do with what can we get done right now." Well. Hmm. Well. Whew. Huh. Wow. Wowwie. My my. How, how to begin. Politics, as Bismark said, is the art of the possible -- that is, what we can get done. And, of the moment means, uh, right now. So ... what's a tautology again? -- so hard to keep it straight, words and their meanings. I was driving at the time, but it was so, uh, O-rageous that I made an attempt to memorize it. Textbook. "It's not a matter of what can we get done right now. It's a matter of politics of the moment."
People say, "He is our president." Indeed, never argue with reality. He is your president. Mine? Must we entangle ourselves in technicalities? Somehow, somehow The O -- that's Oh, not Zero, I'm sure -- talked himself into the Oval Office, and because he is Qualified, he is President. In America after all we mind our Ps and Qs.
Qualified, I say, because O was over age 35, and a natural-born citizen. Can't say whether he was a test tube baby, eugenically perfect messiah as he must be, but that's not the sort of natural we're talking about. Born of an American, whether on American soil or not ... sheesh, the stupid stupid stupid arguments some people try to make. Therefore, American. President, because Americans are, well, stupid, but that's the human condition. What after all is the Antichrist, but an acclaimed and Dear Leader? Not to conflate Obama with the Antichrist. There is after all a False Prophet involved somewhere in that eschatology, and a Beast, and anyway, there are many antichrists.
Don't catastrophize. There was a worse president. Pierce. And Carter. So there you go. Every century has a worst president. We've got almost 2 years for Oblama to not be worse than them. That's a mega cause for hope. And change.
So you can get me a 1949 Hudson Commodore, red please.
I will also accept a Cadillac DeVille.
Well, whatever. A Pontiac, convertible of course, also red.
I'm not picky. But nothing after '54, and unmolested please.