On his way to saving the world, Swish Obama suffered another embarrassing flat tire yesterday in Moscow. Czar Putin told the always overmatched Secretary of State Hillary Clinton that the President could stick any idea of sanctioning Iran into his big ol’ Rabbit Ears. Sanctions ain’t going to happen to his friendly terrorist neighbor, said Mr. Putin.
On the right this afternoon, politicians and pundits are saying, “Told you so.”
Nine months along, it is remarkable how many times Mr. Obama already has been out-thought, undressed, diplomatically speaking, in front of the whole world with hardly a whimper of criticism surfacing.
There is an uncomplicated explanation:
Their eyes paralyzed, refusing to believe what they have just witnessed, White House journalists shrug and downplay the latest crucial developments with the net result that hardly anyone among us notices.
By count, this long-predicted rejection of cooperation by Russia was the 48th consecutive foreign policy setback for Mr. Obama, long past the old record of two by President Clinton in the middle1990s.
You may remember the amateurish We Snookered Iran At Last scene constructed last month as the backdrop for yet another fake Obama conquest:
Almost blushing, Mr. Obama declared to a skeptical world that he had scored a historic breakthrough against Iran. Not only had a previously undisclosed “second” Iranian nuclear facility been “discovered,” which turned out to be a hefty exaggeration, he convinced the Smiling Dwarf, Ahmadinejad The Last, to allow a United Nations weapons inspection team — with a winless record — to examine the darned facility.
Mama, Mama, Look What Daddy Found
(This is nearly on a par with revealing that I have just discovered the Jackson Market, which I think has been open since 1921.)
The catch was — with Swish, there always is a catch — the much mocked U.N. inspections team would not be allowed inside the facility for a month, an astoundingly naive gaffe on the President’s part.
Not even the rawest rube would have agreed to such a lopsided deal.
Naturally, Swish’s fleet-footed army of bootlickers in the media protectively encircled him and slightly altered the tenor of events. In their reports, they virtually ignored the shocking lapse in time between agreement and inspection. Instead, they reported, wasn’t it wonderful that the exotic and magical Mr. Obama convinced the Smiling Dwarf to let our people look around for the materiels with which the Dwarf has promised to blow up Israel?
Whatta guy.
In a month’s time, as even a liberal would realize, the Smiling Dwarf could transfer all of Iran to London, much less the dinky nuclear complex, without calling Bekins and without Swish noticing.
Meantime, there was a critical coda to this development that also was grossly underplayed in the next day reporting.
Mr. Obama, who isn’t into punishment, sternly screwed a scold onto his rookie face and added what would be treated as a throwaway line.
In the unlikely event that Iran was less than forthright, he said, pedantically — as if addressing first-graders from the Ray Charles School of Uncommon Insight — there would be heck for Iran to pay.
Let’s Let the Girls Decide
Glancing coquettishly at Czar Putin, his new best pal in the small, cliquish world of tolerable tyrants, Mr. Obama said:
If Iran is not as candid as an altar boy in keeping its open-house pledge, he and the Czar would sit down over a cup of Joe Torre’s favorite green tea. If Mr. Obama’s Rabbit Ears did not interfere, collaboratively they would decide how they were going to spank bad boy Iran by slapping damaging sanctions on the Jew-loathing, freedom-lathing terrorist leadership.
What Mr. Obama did not seem to realize, but the rest of the world did, was that Russia sleeps with the Smiling Dwarf. They may not be married, but Czar P. has the keys to every door in the country. The Smiling Dwarf does not hiccup without pre-written approval from Putin, the former head of the KGB.
This was an oversight that a slow schoolboy would not commit, much less our President.
And so yesterday, Putin threw a frying pan of runny scrambled eggs into the face of Hillary Clinton. Putin being Putin, while America sent, technically, its top diplomat to Moscow to get the word on sanctions-planning, Putin countered by hiring aone-legged shoeshine boy off the street to deliver his salty, amazingly unanticipated message.
If we gaze in the direction of Washington this afternoon, we will see a pitiable representation of Swish Obama.
Drab-faced and downcast, he has just been supposedly betrayed by his new best pal, who never intended anyway to join the President in imposing sanctions.
Stunningly, Mr. Obama is left with no cards to play.
Iran bought the time it wanted and Putin threw a diplomatic cherry pie into Swish’s surprised, by now pockmarked, face.
As he rode out of sight, Swish was heard to bellow, “I have won again.”
If you don’t know about these events, it may be because the Los Angeles Times reserved its favorite dusty slot for this huge embarrassment of President Obama in this morning’s edition: the bottom of page A-20.
