It was a red-faced Munich Moment that, with typical self-referential bizzarity, he slyly converted into a Eunuch Movement.
As Swishy swayed last night, Neville Chamberlain sprang from the grave with the verve of Yasiel Puig.
Swishy asked a White House aide afterward, “Who is Chamberlain?”
America went to bed last night and arose this morning with a stinky Obama rhetorical omelette dripping from every face.
A bi-polar mannequin, Swishy formed an “X” with his carefully manicured hands, listing at at least 11 We Musts, But We Can’ts.
If he had been participating in a kindergarten debate class yesterday at El Marino Language Immersion School, any teacher with a pulse would have lunged toward the sharp crease in the seat of Swishy’s pants and heaved his self-obsessed student out the nearest door before he could wreak further emotional damage.
Among his conflicting points:
• We must punish the Syrians for using chemical weapons – but we can’t.
• We should make a pinprick military attack –– but we won’t because that is not what my military does.
• We cannot afford to wait any longer to respond – but we will.
• How can we stand by when 400 children are killed by chemical – But we will because 401 is my red line.
Perhaps we can interest President Obama, that tower of philosophical taffy, in taking his next obscenely expensive vacation, next week, inside the luxurious Bermuda Triangle.
He must have had a stale straw stuck in his fatuous mouth when he invoked the uncomfortable word “Israel.” Was that a wince? Or did his upper denture slide?
The embarrassment that the pathetically weak-minded, wispy-willed leader of our country pulled out of a Crackerjack box should have been delivered in his native Swahili. At least then we could plead ignorance.
Pushing his childlike mind to its puerile capacity, President Obama shed his usual arrogance last night long enough to draw a line across the bottom of his autographed page and, true to the tradition of his show biz pals, he left ‘em laughing.
Vlad Putin.
Bashy Assad.
“He’s our man, he’s our man, nobody can make us giggle like the Barack man,” howled whatever squirrely Muslim clerics are leading Iran these late-summer mornings as their cheerleader skirts bounced and flounced in the singing night air of Persia.
Hey, Baracky, this is the wrong audience to play to.
President Obama’s BFF, Vladie, spit in each of his eyes, and Swishy responded in a manly way by unfolding his umbrella.
He resembled Chris Rock at his most aggravating.
But we know it was really Swishy inside that polka dot clown suit because he told more lies about President George W. Bush. A bad guy always betrays his true identity – before he betrays his country. It was even reported that Mr. Obama lifted parts of his speech from a Bush runup to war talk in August 2002 – before he unpacked his lies about Mr. Bush’s administration. As I was watching this enormously uncomfortable man contort himself, I saw him through realistic glasses as the most powerful and most despicable American I could think of.
Three hundred and sixty-four days after Mr. Obama lied his way through a fictitious yarn about the four American murders in Benghazi, he outdid himself with even more reprehensible tomfoolery, a humiliating exercise for him and for us.
