The most unusual remote-control robot ever invented by Matel, the Barry-O-Matic, made its debut recently in one of the world’s more distant markets, the Bagram Airfield in Parwan province Afghanistan. Observers said it appeared nearly life-like, although the eyes had the distant look of a frightened deer, the speech was more clipped and simulated-sounding than normal, and the left fist, instead of pounding the podium moved slowly up and down and looked as if it needed lubrication. A new software insert fortunately prevented the Barry-O from releasing more sensitive information on troop movements and withdrawls, or compromising CIA agents again by announcing they were “on the ground” in another clandestine operation. No word yet as to whether the Mr. Roboto has been re- programmed to prevent giving more tours of our country’s secret bunkers that enabled Brian Williams and the 40 people in his production team an opportunity to deliver another joint-venture compromise of secure locations to enemies throughout the world.
Inarguably, the Bagram Airfield appearance set a new low for cheap and tawdry theatrics by a president with such a fragile and misshaped sense of self that he needs to cultivate the adulation often sought by the papier-mache egos of celebrities. After years of intelligence reports and layers upon layers of efforts between an international cadre of military and spy agencies, Obama acts as if he and he alone snuffed a terrorist, which is not unlike turning the key in the ignition of a car and taking credit for building it. He fancies himself riding gloriously to the rescue like the Lone Ranger atop Silver but instead is a pathetic Dudley Do-Right cartoon figure riding backward on Horse.
Will it be he or the Barry-O-Matic Robot the administration sends back to Afghanistan on August 4th, the first anniversary of the deaths of 31 SEAL Team members whose lives were jeopardized by his chest-pounding following bin Laden’s removal, or might they decide to wait until October 19th to commemorate the second anniversary deaths of seven of our CIA operatives shortly after he strutted to a microphone to announce a covert-ops mission to the entire world? It is important to note that this is the same man when September 11th rolls around every year calls everyone to “a day of service” as if he’s standing in Tiannamen Square channeling Mao, and who could not get off his duff to go to Fort Hood after a muslim insurgent slaughtered 13 people and wounded 29 others despite his continual use of Air Force One as a personal limousine service.
This same man stood in front of college students to share in the lament that they incurred an average of $25,000.00 in school loans for the privilege of attending college, a number consistent with what I faced upon graduating 35 years ago. Instead of whining like a spoiled brat I viewed that debt as an investment in my future and paid off the loans over the next ten years. Only a man with a psychic-deviancy steeped in denial would conveniently ignore admitting that his inexorable march toward socialism and lunatic-fringe-spending has doubled the amount of money owed to the national debt from $25,000.00 to over $50,000.00 for each citizen of the U.S., and from $65,000.00 to $137,000 for each belonging to that rare and vanishing breed: the taxpayer.
Encouraging people to abdicate personal responsibility is not a form of leadership and instead rewards cowardice. Fanning the flames of avarice is not a formula for success but a recipe for dependency and sloth. Encouraging envy of those who have worked hard to succeed bespeaks of intellectual laziness and formulaically stifles growth, and fomenting racial discord as a solution for perceived injustices in 2012 commends a fear of challenge and self-reliance.
My neighbor is more successful than I am. He owns a company, works harder than I do, is imminently more talented, and earns enough money to take his wife and four children on vacation several times per year. He is always driving a new car, donates significantly to charitable concerns, and is a pillar at the local church. According to Mr. Obama and gypsie-looting criminals of his ilk, I don’t think I should ask my neighbor to share his wealth and good fortune with me. Instead, I will walk across the street, ring his doorbell and demand he give me a portion of the spoils from his exhaustive efforts. I never want to work as hard as this man and certainly do not have his innate abilities, motivation, vision, or drive, but who cares?
He’s got it. I’m not willing to work for it, but I want it and I think it’s time he came across with the goods. That is the mindset of the individual who persists upon slurping at the font of socialistic absurdity: what’s mine is mine, and what’s yours is mine. It encourages covetousness and serves as a detriment to achievement, but is manna from heaven for those of whom are content to wallow in pity or become another sheep in the Occupier movement, consisting largely of people who squandered there time in college studying impractical subjects from ebonics to lesbonics.
We should no longer be surprised by Mr. Obama’s decaying and precarious mental state. After all, this is the same man with a resume as thin as a playing card whose ego compelled him to write an autobiography when he was in his early 30’s, and only recently has he admitted to creating a mythical girlfriend in his memoirs through an heretofore unknown literary tool called “compression.” Well, if she was a “composite” of all the women he supposedly knew, then he is a composite of everyone who has ever posed a threat to this great country.