Archive for February, 2009


Obama averts second Great Depression with cash payouts


A few months ago, before the seemingly bloodless transfer of power, I was in a Wal-Mart picking up a few staples without which I could not sustain life.  As I studied the many brands of hair color filling six shelves, I was bumped from behind by an obese woman whose own hair rivaled the Eiffel Tower in both height and technical complexity.  She didn’t apologize, which didn’t surprise me, given that she was bellowing into her pink cell phone at someone I can only assume was hearing impaired.  As she spun her way through the aisle, I heard her complaining about the economy, calling it “the worse [her pronunciation] since the Great Depression.”

I flashed back to the grainy black and white photos that peppered my fourth grade social studies book.  There were couples who looked far too old to have such young children standing in line in hopes of being gifted with a loaf of bread.  Men in suits stood on street corners with their once-prized belongings, desperate to trade whatever anyone would have for a handful of change so they might feed their families.  And some photos showed several families crammed together in a single apartment with bedsheets hanging from ropes to create the illusion of privacy.  These were the images of the Great Depression. 

The deluded woman, who clearly knows less about history than my dog ,was standing in brand new Wal-Mart, surrounded by every necessity and convenience known to man, talking on a telephone whose signal beams through space before reaching its destination.  Her obesity suggested not only easy access to food, but a leaning toward gluttony her ancestors would have considered sinful.  Her choice of hairstyle would have been ostentatious even in Victorian prostitute society.  And I’m willing to bet she paid at least $10 for her Obama T-shirt.

Americans are spoiled and we often don’t realize it until we encounter bumps in the road.  During the days of artificial gravy, when salaries and housing prices soared to unsustainable highs, people adjusted their expectations upward.  If someone earned a salary of $80,000 right out of college, he assumed he would earn more each year in the future.  No point being frugal, since President Clinton announced fictional budget surpluses that had only materialized on paper after books were cooked and recooked.  And when Clinton expanded the Carter administration’s program to provide home loans to folks with no discernible income, even paupers had castles.  Barney Frank, whose boyfriend (the successor to the boyfriend who ran a prostitution ring from Frank’s home) was reaping millions of dollars from the government’s crumbling loan program, dismissed pleas to take action before the housing market collapsed.  With an election approaching, Frank wasn’t about to alienate his voting base by suggesting they actually make payments on their homes.  Why should they?  A deal was struck with the future Obama administration to make the mortgages of the lazy and stupid the burden of working taxpayers.  That’s what passes for generosity among the ruling class.  Those of us who had always submitted our mortgage payments were expected to continue doing so, while those who had no business buying homes in the first place were allowed to stay in their homes, regardless of ability or intent to pay for them.

For the most part, people during the Great Depression were heartier than we are today.  Surely plenty of tears were shed when breadwinners lost their jobs, their homes and their sense of security.  But those people still had a survival instinct that superceded whatever sadness they felt as their lives slid into the mire.  Many had defended their beliefs and way of life in World Wars I and II, only to find those things threatened by the actions of their own government.  They didn’t weep and wail at the feet of their president, asking him to pay their mortgages and assure them risk-free futures.  They moved in with family, worked when the opportunity presented itself, and learned to live lives of subsistence with faith that there would be light at the end of a long, dismal tunnel.

Since Barack Obama’s inauguration, we’ve witnessed idiot after idiot weeping with joy to be in his company.  A Florida man even appeared to have an orgasm when selected to ask a question during a town hall meeting.  Rather than using the opportunity to glean knowledge about Obama’s policies, the young man instead begged the president to expand his socialist policies and require McDonald’s to increase pay and expand employee benefits.  Obama sold himself as a Jesus/father figure throughout his campaign, knowing that most people are more inclined toward charismatic people than ones with accomplishments.  But unlike the carpenter Jesus, Obama has never been much of a breadwinner.  He’s the political equivalent of George Constanza, managing to secure jobs for which there are no specific duties and for which he has no qualifications, but using the job titles to establish an aura of worthiness.  Until his election to the Senate (and since then, if we’re being honest), Obama was paid by political organizations to expolit uneducated people in exchange for their votes.  The financing gave Obama the opportunity for the power he craved, and in exchange for buying him that power the financiers can expect much reciprocation.  To educated people, there is nothing more frightening than someone who pursues power for its own sake.  But to the stupid, empty promises are golden.  When nothing comes of them, the victim class can remain inactive, since they’ve got someone else to blame.

The so-called stimulus package will likely be the ruination of a once-great nation.  I grew tired of hearing its defenders cry, “Well, something has to be done to stop the bleeding!”  That’s like a drunk driver crashing into another vehicle, sending it careening into a tree, and then lopping off the entrapped driver’s head because beheading the victim must be better than doing nothing.  Not a single politican who voted for the stimulus bill had read it.  Some claim they were unaware that the legislation is rife with cash payouts to the organizations who purchased the presidency for Obama.  ACORN will receive a big chunk of the pie to further its voter fraud programs with the approval of the new president.  And George Soros’ anti-capitalist corporations will likely see free speech quashed as a thank-you for their efforts to quash anti-Obama sentiments during the campaign.  Plus, they’ll receive piles of money, since they funded the Obama juggernaut.  Quid pro quo?  I wondered how the same people who insisted we were all starving in the streets managed to compile such huge piles of cash for the Obama campaign.  It turns out the donations were actually loans to be paid back in the months following the inauguration.

The stock market has continued its decline since Obama took office, which indicates Wall Street’s infatuation with the stuffed-shirt president was fleeting.  Maybe someone finally asked, “Yes, we can what?”  But the masses are still invested in their plastic hero and awaiting the first of their lifelong string of welfare checks.  Like the woman in the Wal-Mart, they prefer to be dependent children who can take comfort in the arms of Big Daddy if their lives never flourish, since that’s preferable to accepting personal responsibility for their own failures.  Perhaps it would be better if the United States split into factions, though a civil war would certainly ensue when the victim class grew to resent the capitalist states for having the audacity to live productive, fruitful lives after they voted for a president who promised to take away that option.  Who needs the audacity of accomplishment when you have the audacity of hope?


Stop the crucifixion! I’ve seen the Obama light!


Less than a month after intellectually blighted Americans celebrated the coronation of their lord and savior Barack Obama, the world is for the first time and finally at peace, oppressed people are enjoying freedom and prosperity, and the world economy is as bullish as Ted Kennedy at fraternity kegger.  Things are even looking brighter for George Obama, whose life wasn’t as directly corrupted by white man’s greed as his brother’s, but still sucked.  Before George became First Brother, he survived on less than $1 a month and hope, since Barack apparently didn’t have his address to send him a few dollars.   But his decision to celebrate his brother’s rise to power with a spliff landed him in a Nigerian jail where he’ll enjoy improved living quarters, daily nourishment, and the sort of regimented life favored by socialists the world over.

In my diary, which is less tawdry than Barbara Walters’ tell-all book, but nonetheless devoted to world leaders on whom I have crushes, Margaret Thatcher has been supplanted by Barack Obama as the statesperson with whom I’d most like to slow dance to Journey’s “Faithfully” under a mirror ball in a balloon-festooned gynmasium.  Sure, Attila the Hen has great hair and can rock a pair of low-heeled taupe pumps, but her views on liberty as a birthright and the benefits of free-market economies would really, in retrospect, be better stitched on pillows than pursued as ideals.  She was always so, “My way is the right way!  Human beings have rights!  Stop starving your people!”  Really, if you think about it, she’s a little bit judgmental.  I suppose Iron Maggie was really more of a rebound gal in my development as a human being, since I was drawn to her mostly because she was the polar opposite of her predecessor, Leonid Brezhnev.  Leo, as I liked to call him, was really nothing more than a big, squishy teddy bear, no matter what the history books say.  Beneath those caterpillar brows were eyes that saw the world as it could have been, if only he’d had the means of forcing it into submission.  His detractors always said it was wrong to use military power to sway public opinion, but how is that different than slapping a child’s hand to stop him from touching a hot stove?  Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind when people aren’t smart enough to know what’s good for them.  During my Thatcher years, I nearly forgot how safe I felt imaginary-dancing in Leo’s arms, but the rise of President Obama brings those tingly feelings back to me.  And it’s even cooler this time around, since Barack knows all the words to “Faithfully” and sounds just like Johnny Cochran when he sings them softly in my ear.

I actually think it’s a good thing that President Obama chose tax cheats as disciples, since it makes him more Christ-like.  Just as Jesus forgave the sins of the men crucified with him, Barack absolved Timothy Geithner of his misdeeds and petitioned the public to be gentle with Tom Daschle, who misunderstood some complicated law he thought granted free car service to people who care.  Inspired by their peers, some of Barack’s other disciples are digging into their pockets and retroactively tithing to their state religion.  As I write this, literally hundreds of Barack’s friends, colleagues and supporters are lining up at the door of the IRS, checkbooks in hand,  eager to donate past earnings and lift the country out of recession.  It makes me think all the drama over the trillion-dollar economic stimulus package is nothing more than partisan hype.  If Barack’s appointees continue this trend of generosity, surely the government will have more than enough money to cover the tab for all the proposed social programs.

There’s a new lilt in my step as I anticipate the future under an Obama administration.  I feel a little like Barney Frank atop a  Mardi Gras float.  I’ve been promised a tax rebate that exceeds my payroll witholdings, I’ve been assured I can live in my house whether I continue paying for it or not, and I’m pretty sure I’ll wake up some morning to find a brand new electric car in my driveway, courtesy of my president.  I won’t have anywhere to drive, since my job is under threat, but is having a job really necessary in an era of unlimited progress?  I enjoyed having goals and working toward them, since achieving them brought an odd sense of pride.  But pride is really more Margaret Thatcher than Barack Obama.  And has pride ever fed a hungry child?