Phoning_IT_In Or looking for WingerWelfare

The need to feel productive for a minute, because reason, is the germative inspiration for this post.

Was hanging out at Edroso’s basement and ran into a kid who left a link written by one of his favorite writer of sports It’s a piece in the Hill and squeals of “let me in the fucking club already.” Accompanied by the pounding of fists on the door.

Anyway I gave the piece a graph to capture my attention before deciding that the only reason to read more would be to deride the fucking everlasting shit out of it. My initial reaction follows:

Barack Begat Donald

Thats the title of the piece, now granted, he may not have come up with the quip, but that nearly stopped me at the gate.

First Graph:

Barack Obama was in a bad mood.

It was early April 2008 when I
took my 7-year-old daughter to see presidential candidate, and then-Sen.
Obama (D-Ill.), in downtown San Antonio. The election was months away,
but there was a palpable sense of inevitability in the air and I wanted
my daughter to soak in the evening’s historical significance perched
atop my shoulders while we listened to Obama speak.

Perfect, right out of the gate with an unprovable assertion, pivot to daddy’s little darling on the shoulder, which really is all about me, me, me.

So admitting to not having read past the first graph which proves to some of our favored trolls, something…I have the piece in another tab and we shall begin the eviscerations….

Graph the second:

Perhaps it was his loss to Hillary Clinton in the state primaries contested on that warm April evening, but there was very little inspiration in his words. Instead I felt a baritone anger booming from the giant speakers. In that moment, the “change” so often promised morphed from hope into something darker for me; something more ominous.

Damn, straight in we have busted out the Foghorn whistles ala Leghorn. “Angy Assed, Sore Loosing, Uppity, Fucking Nigger, is harshing my buzz.” Tarted up nicely for polite company, but damn, if I can’t smell the desperation to get off of the sports beat and into some wingnut sinecure.

Shaking head, I have to admit on some level to being impressed with the bravado…Any way on to graph three:

Snipers were perched atop the courthouse in the distance while upbeat music from Stevie Wonder and Curtis Mayfield wailed. It all served as a fitting sensory contradiction and the diversity in the crowd was a sight to behold: young, old, brown, black and white, all together, all surging toward the stage.

OK, It is gonna take a minute or two for my eyes to adjust to this trainwreck of a, um, not even fucking sure what to call…I mean word salad seems a bit kind…I’ll leave “…fitting sensory contradiction….” to our resident genii.

The surreality of the evening were prelude to his delivery, which was more Willie Stark than John Kennedy. I noticed the contrast of his slow-burning, elegantly coiffed power, pitted against the crowd’s unadulterated joy for him.

“…were prelude…” “…slow-burning, elegantly coiffed…” WTF? If gifted/afflicted with synesthesia, this shit might make sense.

On to the fourth, where hopefully the train re-rails:

It has been seven years and many miles, but as I consider Obama’s presidency, I think about that night. My optimism dissipated while listening to raucous chants of “Yes We Can!” and I left with the inescapable sense that Obama, soon to be the most powerful man in the world, wasn’t speaking to me. In fact, he had no interest whatsoever in winning me over. He knew already that he could succeed without me.

Would somebody please hand this wank a Fleshlight™, a fucking mirror in which to indulge his inner Narcissus, and a fucking Ham sandwhich to replenish his Me-ness after finishing.

I deeply wish every election, every referenda, every decision made was always and forever about Me. Then, only then, would the world be set right. I am beginning to feel the gordian knot closing around me as if I stumbled into a nest of hungry Pythons.

Five:

Gonna skip that one and I’ll just leave my impression:
Aside from the lies, fanfic, and projection, there is an odd coherence to the bit.

Six, nearing the point:

And now, here we are, hurtling along with our hair on fire in the summer of Donald Trump. I’m captivated by his speeches — not for his eloquence or oratory, but more for his inability to explain anything beyond how rich and smart he believes himself to be.

And…The let’s see if I can justify my thesis, or is there anything left in the gaping hole of my tortured ass that I can grab…:

On the surface, attempting to compare the two is a fool’s errand. Trump is the chainsaw to Obama’s scalpel, but dig deeper and the similarities are there: both rhetorical methods serve their purpose, both get the job done. The vacuousness of Obama’s — “this was the moment when the rise of the oceans began to slow and our planet began to heal” — has been trumped by Trump’s clumsy “whatever it is, I know how to do things. I just want to make this country so great, and that’s what’s going to happen.”

Jesus…Next stop, a fine toothed comb and a dingleberry harvest….

And, ironically, most of those who chose to sit out the last two presidential elections — thereby accelerating Obama’s ascension — are responsible now for the rise of Trump. In this tragic comedy, Obama’s narcissism, his polite classlessness, his ruthless pursuit of largely unpopular ends that so fueled his supporters for the better of the last decade, have all comically transformed into the vehicle driving Trump’s summer success. All things considered and rhetorical prowess aside, there is little separating the abiding philosophies of Obama and Trump. Strangely, Trump unequivocally owes his early campaign success to Obama.

Sorry folks, this is where I start dreaming of sitting in my chair watching a documentary, or putting a bullet through my fucking skull knowing that this shithead lives in my world and got paid to write the last bit that I will share:

As a conservative, I can reconcile my disconnect with Obama and those that support him. And while not pleasant, knowing that the current president never attempted to persuade me is understandable.

Sure it is dude-bro, sure it is…

 

Comments: 21

 
 
 

Obama’s narcissism, his polite classlessness, his ruthless pursuit of largely unpopular ends that so fueled his supporters for the better of the last decade

Sweet gallopin’ Fidel Castro eating a unicycle, they really do live in their own private Idaho, don’t they?

my disconnect with Obama and those that support him

And with objective fucking reality.

 
 

Obama’s narcissism, his polite classlessness, his ruthless pursuit of largely unpopular ends that so fueled his supporters for the better of the last decade

Sweet gallopin’ Fidel Castro eating a unicycle, they really do live in their own private Idaho, don’t they?

my disconnect with Obama and those that support him

And with objective fucking reality.

…Tryin’ one again like Astronaut Jones. This time, instead of being told I was posting too fast, I got sent to the “Page not found” page. Jesus on stilts.

 
 

Yeah… I just don’t know what to say.

That’s why I already read Sadly, No!; all these monkeys and typewriters and somehow they’re getting paid. Paid alot, apparently.

 
 

“Hale is a freelance writer who lives in San Antonio with his wife and three children.” [Shifts weight, cocks head] See, I want to do *more* than sports.

 
 

My optimism dissipated while listening to raucous chants of “Yes We Can!”…. Obama… wasn’t speaking to me. In fact, he had no interest whatsoever in winning me over.

“If only Obama had had the crowd chant “No We Can’t!”… Just that simple gesture gesture of respect alone for conservatives in the crowd might have won me over.”

“But, NO…”

 
 

And, ironically, most of those who chose to sit out the last two presidential elections — thereby accelerating Obama’s ascension — are responsible now for the rise of Trump. In this tragic comedy, Obama’s narcissism…

Obama, Trump… can’t tell your narcissists without a scorecard!

 
 

The similarities are pervasive, slow-burning, and highly redolent. Just look!

• They both made “speeches” at a “podium” dedicated to “politics”

• Each hoped that his words might sway an audience! (emphasis mine)

• And don’t get me started on the bipedal carbon-based thing! Though I will say that the comparison becomes ironclad when you look at exactly how much of their bodies consist of water!!

This article really “hits a home basket,” if I may be permitted an insightful sports parable.

 
 

“Both seem to be content in dividing the country into picayune slivers to cobble together a winning coalition. ”

Unlike any other candidate running for anything, anywhere. Also, pretentio-stoopid (i.e., incorrect) use of “picayune.”

 
 

[Obama’s] elegantly coiffed power…

Note that the author is actually referring to Afro-American hair clipped to approximately 1/32nd of an inch.

What are you, fucking nuts?

 
 

A hilarious complaint retweeted by one of the family rightwingers –

Totally missing from Trumpism: any vision of America with lower government spending, lower tax rates, fewer regulations, more freedom.

And yet conservatives are coming to him like iron to a magnet, like they haven’t for anyone since Sarah Palin, and every one of his competitors has been left far behind in the dust.

It’s almost as if modern conservatism isn’t about any of these things, as if Obama’s caricature of their voters as “bitter” and “clinging to their guns and religion and hatred of other people” was spot on, and as if they’ll come like sheep to anyone who sounds like he’s on that general wavelength.

 
 

One of these things is not like the other.

But which one? The eternal conservative dilemma.

 
 

Loomis, hopefully that will go away, unfortunately, i do not have *those* keys…

And thanks all. Wonderful comments.

 
 

It’s almost as if modern conservatism isn’t about any of these [freedumb-related] things, as if Obama’s caricature of their voters as “bitter” and “clinging to their guns and religion and hatred of other people” was spot on, and as if they’ll come like sheep to anyone who sounds like he’s on that general wavelength.

Can I quote you on that in my local paper(s)?

(FYWP, how can I be posting too quickly?)

 
 

Heh. Go ahead. Let me know how much hate mail it generates.

 
 

Actually there is a certain similarity between Trump and Obama. One of Obama’s strengths is that he knows how to get stuff done. After the disaster of the Bush presidency, it was nice to have someone coming into office who, rather than being a “CEO president” (and having the competence of all too many CEOs) knew how to actually be an executive and run a government, if only because he had experience being a “community organizer” which, if nothing else, indicated he knew how to herd cats and hence could manage to actually get the government to do stuff. Similarly, even if Trump only can play a competent leader on reality TV, the non-awful parts of Trump’s agenda (i.e. the parts where he isn’t being a nativist playing to the racist element in the GOP; i.e. his stronger than most of his fellow GOoPer’s support for certain government programs) come from his understanding (such as it is) of how our economy works and what needs to be done to keep this country running. Of course, a leader who actually gets stuff done is the last thing a “government can’t do anything right” reactionary wants in office, isn’t it?

 
 

The consensus from some of the commenters over at Balloon Juice is that Donald Trump is actually the least kookoo of the Republican candidates in the running. To my surprise, I think they’re actually right.

Yes, Trump believes some ridiculous shit, but every one of the candidates has said or done things that’re just as absurd. It’s basically a requirement if you’re in the Republican Party. Yes, Trump is an outrageously racist asshole – in other words, again, he’s a Republican. If enough of the Republican base feels like becoming Racists For Social Security instead of the Racist Atlas Shrugged Book Club they’ve been for the last thirty-five years, who am I to argue?

 
 

Trump’s mouth is going to do him in.

I live in the Tulare Valley in Central Cali and I can tell you this, he is not well-liked here.

 
 

Trump is an adulterer. Like my grandfather was. It screwed up my family. I imagine Trump’s family is screwed up too.

 
 

Is that so?

 
 

Travis Hale is a self-identified conservative who has not (as far as I know) been disowned by the conservative movement, so one would not expect honesty from him. I initially thought that he had, in this column, found a way to remain acceptable to the conservative movement without telling flat out lies: write meaningless nonsense that cannot be classified as either true or false. But then I realized that if that was his goal, he screwed up:

“It was early April 2008 when I took my 7-year-old daughter to see presidential candidate… Perhaps it was his loss to Hillary Clinton in the state primaries contested on that warm April evening…”

It turns out that there were no primaries in early April. (There was a long gap between the Mississippi primary on March 11 and the Pennsylvania primary on April 22.) So Hale’s conservative credentials are safe.

 
 

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