Idioms are curious things. Despite humble beginnings, they routinely describe the general state of human affairs precisely. Yes, yes. Idioms are generally dismissed by contemptuous avant-garde sorts of snobs; yet still, idioms are true and painfully close to the marrow.
“Give him enough rope to hang himself” is apropos.
It is a pithy saying, that. It alludes to poetic justice. To advance that cause, CP-Idaho will gladly contribute a skein or two, poetic or not, whilst Monsieur Obama madly entangles his “legacy” in a generous allotment of rope.
“Soon, very soon” the national embarrassment known as the Obama Administration (or so it is called) will be over. Mercifully, not a moment too soon; tossed into the ash bin of history. It’s been a long eight years in masquerade and shade.
Behind handkerchief wielding, conceited liberal bourgeoisie, Obama’s courtiers pompously declared (even in the face of a paucity of supporting evidence) that they knew best…it’s been an unending whiny and nasally media “adhan” blared by muezzin from the minaret.
Each tenured Obama bureaucrat, up in their ivory tower of neo-academic soothsaying, never quite seems to graduate off their lofty perch to join the reality of ordinary Americans. They never come to the knowledge of the truth. Too far above that, perhaps. Besides, heaven forbid; commoners “cling to their guns and Bibles.” And that’s intolerable to the delicate olfactory.
Ecclesiastes put it succinctly a couple thousand years back; there’s nothing new under the sun. A time and a season for everything…and to be sure, it is time for Monsieur Obama to go.
Simply returning to common sense and traditional American heritage will alone be liberating after the ornate baroque and garish artifices of the preposterous Monsieur Obama. Bavaria’s Mad Ludwig had nothing over Barack. (We will address certain “palace furnishings” here in a bit.)
But ere the cock crows thrice at his current feverish pace, we have little doubt that Monsieur Obama will conclusively prove, once and for all, that he is exactly what his opponents have said of him all along.
Bratty, spoiled, petulant, childish, conceited, reactionary, arrogant, narcissistic, egotistical, vindictive and punkish. But then, most handkerchief wielding liberal bourgeoisie are like that. That too is an idiom, of sorts.
We note that the pouting Mssr. Obama vindictively flipped off Israel. Doubling down on snotty, Mssr. Obama sent his court lackey, Mssr. Kerry, up to the media minaret microphone. “Rice in the Bum” Kerry then proceeded to expose himself to all the world. What a view. And what a complete jerk…so much so that even Democrats complained.
So too did several of America’s best allies—for example, Australia and Great Britain. Australian Foreign Minister Julie Bishop stated it plainly. “In voting at the U.N., the coalition government has consistently not supported one-sided resolutions targeting Israel.”
British Prime Minister Theresa May also condemned the Obama so-called Administration invective against Jews. Said the British, “We do not believe that it is appropriate to attack the composition of the democratically elected government of an ally.”
That too is a common idiom. But of course, the handkerchief wielding thin skinned and effete Monsieur Obama supposedly knows better…or not.
Now as for those palace furnishings…it has taken quite a number of insults by Monsieur Obama before our British friends spoke out. In April 2016, London’s Mayor, Boris Johnson, chaffed in an op-ed piece countering Mssr. Obama’s overt intrusion into the Brexit decision. (The hypocrisy of Mr. Obama complaining lately about foreign intrusion into another nation’s voting positively reeks —no wonder his handkerchief is a constant accessory.)
Mayor Johnson opined about the removal from the White House of the bust of Sir Winston Churchill in February 2009 by a vindictive and tantrum prone “part Kenyan”. Said removal was in fact one of Monsieur Obama’s first acts as President (along with printing a couple trillion in paper, euphemistically called dollars, for all those shovel ready jobs.) Elections do indeed have consequences.
Mayor Johnson’s complaint prompted a defensive (or retaliatory) revision of facts by the so-called Administration. Sir Churchill’s removal was “rumor,” said Monsieur Obama, adding there are “only so many tables where you can put busts, otherwise it starts looking a little cluttered.”
From atop the minaret we are doubtlessly reassured. “I love Winston Churchill. I love the guy.” That guy’s bust now purportedly resides on the second floor of the White House, outside Mssr. Obama’s private office. He says he can see “that guy”…“every day, including on weekends, when I’m going into that office to watch a basketball game.”
So, who are we to doubt? Still, Mssr. Obama’s 2016 version diverges from the 2009 British newspaper version. [The Telegraph; byline Tim Shipman; 5:20PM GMT 14 Feb 2009].
In 2009, a British Embassy spokesman said the Churchill bronze (by Sir Jacob Epstein; valued at several hundred thousand pounds) “was uniquely lent to a foreign head of state, President George W Bush, from the Government Art Collection in the wake of 9/11 as a signal of the strong trans-Atlantic relationship.”
Mr. Obama “decided not to continue this loan and the bust has now been returned. It is on display at the Ambassador’s Residence.” We were unaware that Mssr. Obama had an office over there. But, hey.
Apparently we don’t need no stinking strong trans-Atlantic relationships. (Or trans-Mediterranean for that matter.) Of course, it is entirely possible that Monsieur Obama intended a different sort of trans relationship. One can never tell, given the peculiar choice of rainbow lighting decorations at the White House.
Now we are at “sanctions” imposed against Russia for alleged email “hacking” says Monsieur Obama. Far be it from us to point out that those emails were in fact leaked…not hacked…by Democrats themselves; but we digress.
The oft less than truthful cowboy Monsieur Obama has tossed a rope up in the tree, ready to lynch that Russian “little guy” and “pay back” Mr. Trump. The problem with that (beyond evidence…and truth) is that Monsieur Obama has so entangled himself with all that rope, the only noose set is the one which will certainly hang his own legacy.
Ah well, truth will out. Truth, like gold, is pretty much where you find it, however humble its idiomatic surroundings may be. It is a rich man indeed who at least looks for it. Fool’s gold is otherwise.
And just to twist the fellow in the wind, we conclude with an album cover from a punk band, The Clash, 1978.