[img]1|left|||no_popup[/img]Not by coincidence did passive, swishy, submissive, wrackingly insecure, narcissistic Barack Obama marry vocal, vulgar, angry, dominating Michelle Robinson. She is the mommy he never had.
We have seen the President’s under-reported but fairly obvious negative traits prance onto the White House stage each time a global crisis strikes, revealing the embarrassingly squishy underbelly of his wind-prone character.
He reminds me of a plain looking, mousey-haired girl at a dance. She shows up wearing her out-of-date print dress from Goodwill, plumps herself onto a chair in the corner, knocking her knobby knees together, bashfully, coquettishly, glancing at the dance floor, hoping she doesn’t offend anybody because she would kind of, sort of like to join in.
Mostly, she worries about offending others, being rejected. Again.
Chaotic Iran, so far, has been a 6-day nightmare for President Obama’s crippled character.
Last Friday’s unexpected election outcome and subsequent rioting have thrown him. The dynamic and liquid events have forced him to think and to act on the fly, which goes against his most basic tendencies.
Tepidity and inherent indecisiveness have been at the unreported core of his 5-month-old Presidency.
No Idea How to Respond to Iran
Never have they been more shamefully on display that when the Leader of the Free World this week backed away from making a statement that even the softest of his predecessors would have given. Instead, he weakly chose to play the safe role of the mousey, knock-kneed, bashful girl at the dance, too scared to abandon his script and or, heaven forbid, the echo of American moral values resounding in the streets of Tehran and the bravery of the demonstrators.
Never a strong man in public or private, he long has held a fear of failing.
In the privacy of their home, Mr. Obama plays Casper Milquetoast to Mrs. Obama’s loud and unchallenged bossism.
Normally, this would feed a normal man’s natural desire to dominate in the workplace. Long ago the President accepted the notion he never will be in charge, or even the co-leader, in his own household.
Timidity is his natural inclination.
This is nearly the worst fault the supposed Leader of the Free World can be saddled with, not to mention its deleterious effect on you and me as Americans worried about our security in a thug-dominated world.
A Professor Who Lives and Loves to Lecture
Although Mr. Obama’s handlers rather brilliantly pitched him as a community organizer during the Presidential campaign, that is a primary mischaracterization of his career and personality.
Not by accident did he select a career in academia, and then, with icy calculation, segue into an intended lifetime in politics. These outlets allow him to make a living doing what he believes he does best, lecture professorially.
This distant stance affords him the delicious opportunity to dominate the way he believes a male role model should and in a way that never will happen in the Obama hearth.
Cursed with a flaming, short-wick temper and surrounded by an all-enveloping, diabetes-style ego that demands to be fed every hour, Mr. Obama is at his most comfortable when he stands isolated at a podium.
From this range, with his insecurities well-masked, he can tell audiences what he, little, old formerly abandoned Barack, is going to do for them, and how he is going to make their lives so much better than they are now.
He simply inhales the power.
Keep Your Distance, Please
For a public figure, he is astonishingly uncomfortable, distractingly insecure, in one-to-one settings.
He fears he will be outwitted and therefore embarrassed. On odd occasions this occurred last year on the campaign trail, but the journalists were so overwhelmed by his glitz and intimidated by his entourage, they ignored the scenes as forgettable flukes. He never has been accused of thinking on his feet. Methodically, almost ploddingly, he processes his thoughts, which is why he dreads direct, intimate engagement.
When assessing the often conflicting, sadly confusing way that his personality and horribly over-hyped rhetorical gifts play out, it is necessary to remember that while he grew up in a lightly loving home, he grew up without either parent present, and without comprehending the importance of intimacy in a family setting. He and his grandparents were separately focused in their goals and interests.
For Mr. Obama, who has risen to unbelievable heights at the prime of his personal power, this is compensation time. With the whole world distracted by his terribly over-rated assets, this is Mr. Obama’s get-even time, the period when he can unashamedly make up for all of the traditions of youth that you and I took for granted and he was deprived of.
Practically in desperation, he is clinging to his Islamic roots — even flaunting them when necessary — the way you and I would clutch at a tree branch if we were in danger of falling down the side of a mountain. Islam provides him with a foundational memory. It infuses him with the kind of delayed legitimacy that my Judaism has provided for me in real time. He is so tempted to cry out, “See, I am as valid as you are.”
He is as much of a Christian as I am a Philadelphian — yes, I lived there 31 years ago and I have a long-distance fondess for the culture of the city, which is where it ends. “Christianity” looks better than toxic “Islam” on Mr. Obama’s C.V., which is 100 percent of the reason it is there. He is a Christian for career purposes, quite divorced his personal needs.
Most of his daily public actions, and many of his private ones, are as practiced, calculated, pre-scheduled as an actor’s on stage.
Instant, unpredicted change in the world knocks Mr. Obama out of his cement-laden routine. And that is where we find him this morning with Iran on fire. He is standing in a corner, poker face to the wall.
