Indeed, President Obama possesses the powers of Houdini that his most undiscerning admirers have been touting since he emerged from the Presidential closet almost six years ago.
He has perfected the pragmatic, skin-saving, politically invaluable ability to make himself invisible at the darnedest times – when people want to pose questions to him.
The Wimpy Burger was named for Mr. Obama’s character.
So was Smuckers’ jelly.
So were Planters’ peanuts.
You would not want to be in a foxhole with anyone named Obama, unless it was Buford Kilpatrick Obama, a South Carolina farmer who fought heroically in the Korean War.
If Mr. Obama possesses a spine, it is too shy to appear in public.
Pity the fool with Mr. Obama for a friend.
Pity the foolish person who lacks insight and expects Mr. Obama to stand up for him when he needs defending.
Mr. Obama prefers to sit – as in sitting it out.
Courage not only is not his middle name, it ain’t even in his extended family.
Pity Susan Rice, our effete ambassador to the United Nations, whom Mr. Obama correctly, but sadly, played for a fool.
The disgusting scenario of the President quietly ordering the pliable, expendable, dependable Ms. Rice to salvage Mr. Obama’s re-election scalp back in September by lying about the Benghazi massacre turned out exactly as he fiendishly diagrammed it.
If she would just lie on five Sunday talk shows the weekend after the Sept. 11 Benghazi killings by al-Qaeda terrorists, he would be mighty grateful, m’am.
Then, m’am, he would not look like a liar for having claimed, endlessly last year and this year, that by thunder, he had demolished terrorism as we know it by killing Bin Laden.
His water-weak character would have outfoxed another crisis.
Foppishly sacrificing her dignity on the altar of Mr. Obama’s re-election campaign, Ms. Rice took the bullet that would have been meant for him.
When the election was over, the phoniness of the President raced to the fore last month at one of his rare press conferences. He faked anger, he faked caring for her, he faked standing up for Ms. Rice before the television cameras. Sounding almost convincingly bold and manly, he said her critics should aim their fire at him.
Ha.
If you can find him.
In recent days, with his fiscal crises burgeoning, he told Ms. Rice the flames were getting too hot for him to push her through as his Secretary of State nominee.
She would have to exit, stage right.
For gullible public consumption, she would have to walk through a dog-and-pony show about how she loved her country and she just could not put America through one more melodrama over l’il ol’ her.
The Obamaphiles have lapped it up the last 24 hours like a special-needs dog.
Instead of stepping in front of the curtain and faking one more theatrical defense of his dear, dear ex-friend, Mr. Obama, as we say in Culver City, pulled a Ted Cooke. He dived under the desk, outta sight, man, and noshed on a Wimpy Burger.
