The World O' Crap Archive

Welcome to the Collected World O' Crap, a comprehensive library of posts from the original Salon Blog, and our successor site, (2006 to 2010).

Current posts can be found here.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

And Whenever Mandingo Tells A Lie, His…Wait, That Can’t Be Right…

To the ramparts, Leftists!  Obama’s approval ratings may be be high, but his Index of Evil is plummeting!  It seems like only weeks ago he was widely acknowledged throughout Wingnuttia as the One True Antichrist.  But by the time the Teabaggers were gathering to steep and have their rabbles roused, the President was able to score no higher than a Hitler, which experts in political iconography suggest is indicative of a cooling trend.  Then this evening, as I took a postprandial stroll through Newsmax, I saw that Obama had been demoted to Pinocchio.  Pinocchio!  Yes, I realize that referencing the puppet with the telescoping proboscis is obligatory when denouncing your opponent as an habitual liar, but it’s a rather vertiginous drop from Nicolae Carpathia to marionette.
First comes John L. Perry, “a prize-winning newspaper editor and writer” — a phrase which suggests he once successfully ate his way to the bottom of a box of Crackerjacks — “who served on the White House staffs of two presidents.”  Which two he does not say, presumably because presidents, like bloggers, prefer to work anonymously (although that weirdly grinning Guy Falkes mask the previous chief executive wore whenever he gave a speech really creeped me out).
All the while, the new president has been a frenetic jumping jack. The press can’t keep up with his next moves. It’s unlikely most Americans can, either. Yet, throughout, he has remained cool as a cucumber…
I’d like to have been a fly on the wall during some of Mr. Perry’s Oval Office presentations, if only to discover at what point a president will summon the Secret Service to escort a member of his own staff out of the building.  I imagine it usually happened right around the time John said, “Mr. President, we have learned that your opponent is a frenetic, yet cool cucumber who does jumping jacks as part of a plot to make the American people feel flabby and winded.  I suggest you call a press conference.”
[W]ho is in charge of the Obama presidency? Who is it who’s pulling Obama’s strings? Whose puppet is he? … Could this be why Obama pitched a fit until the Secret Service let him keep his cell phone to receive calls he absolutely had to take?
“Excuse me, Mr. President, I have the Puppet Master on line 3…No sir, the one from Puppet Master III: Toulon’s Revenge…”
In the Pinocchio allegory, an insignificant wooden figure yearns to become a real little boy. But his proclivity for stretching the truth causes his nose to lengthen each time.
You know, if you have to explain “the Pinocchio allegory” to your readers, maybe you should play it safe and also take a moment to remind them that the toilet and their pants are two separate things.
The full story of Barack Obama, the puppet president, remains untold: Who is the Geppetto who carved this herky-jerky stick figure? Who now pulls the strings that control the movements that affect the daily lives of all Americans?
“And who keeps singing ‘High on a hill stood a lonely goatherd’?!  Enough with the yodeling…!”
Just a few columns down from John’s effort we find Pat Boone, who also believes the President of the United States is an articulated pinewood golem imbued with unholy life.
Well, this must have been embarrassing for John and Pat.  It’s like that episode of I Love Lucy, where Lucy and Ethel both wear the same gown to their women’s club talent show and wind up tearing each other’s clothes off during a performance of the Cole Porter standard, “Friendship.”
Day after day, week after week, as I watch the actions and decisions of our new, untrained, and apparently naive young president in amazement, I find myself thinking of Pinocchio.
So much so that I actually looked up Italian writer Carlo Collodi’s original story, published in 1883. It told of a piece of pinewood that a woodcarver named Geppetto carved into a wooden puppet.
Pat also pauses to recount the entire plot of Pinocchio for the benefit of those readers who can’t walk and blink at the same time without tripping a circuit breaker in their nervous system.
I wish I could foresee a happy ending for us and our President Pinocchio — I mean, President Obama — in real life, but right now, I’m very pessimistic.
Pat fears for the future because our president is black.  He goes on to list the many times Obama came to a fork in the road of life, and sadly, chose the black one.
Obama’s first autobiographical book told of his childhood-long insecurity, the absence of a father, his indecision about whether he was white or black
He reveals that a strong friendly influence on his teen years was an alienated black man in Hawaii. Then, along the way, both at Columbia University and Harvard, he fell in and communed with others who encouraged his black identity, as well as a certain distance from his white friends and acquaintances.
If only Obama had resisted the influence of alienated Negroes in the tropics, and Sith Lords at Columbia who tempted him toward the Dark Side, and instead joined the melanin-free team when he was still young and relatively obscure enough to pass for white.  Then we wouldn’t have to put up with a Black Separatist in the White House who serves Shabazz Bean Pies at state dinners.  Anyway, Pat goes on about the president’s Unbearable Blackness of Being…but after awhile you get the impression that his beef with Obama isn’t so much a matter of conflicting political philosophies, Pat’s just pissed off that the president won’t hire him to deliver a White cover version of the State of the Union address.  Just for the heartland; they’re not really comfortable with all that jungle wonkishness.
Meanwhile, Zazzle advances the debate with this white onmoronmaroon Beefy-T:
Worst blaxploitation film ever.
Posted by scott on April 27th, 2009

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