The Witch Doctor President : Ooh Eeh Ooh Ah Aah…

En Garde In The Bunker

En Garde In The Bunker

Somehow Willi-Wonka comes to mind as the opener to this piece … 
There’s no earthly way of knowing which direction they are going;  There’s no knowing where they’re rowing, not a speck of light is showing; So the danger must be growing, are the fires of Hell a-glowing? Is the grisly Reaper mowing? Yes! The danger must be growing ’cause the rowers keep on rowing… And following thatwe could refer to him as the Witch Doctor president.

Yesterday’s presentation by the Impeachable Imposter on his dispatch of 300 Special Forces to Iraq (which isn’t “boots on the ground” somehow – will they be forced to wear flip-flops?) was pathetic. When he is not reading prepared text from his teleprompter, he studs his presentation with “uh” – the sign he is lying, prevaricating, and deceiving us all in making stuff up to sound good without giving away the game. The Witch Doctor president.

 

As Victor Davis Hanson wrote in a brilliant piece a few weeks ago:

If we were living in normal times, the scandals and failures around this fool — without going into foreign policy — would have ruined a presidency to the point of reducing it to Nixon, Bush, or Truman poll ratings. 

Obama signals to the elite that like them, he too is bothered by those non-arugula-eating greedy losers who are xenophobic and angry that the world left them behind, who are without tastes and culture, who are materialistic to the core, and who are greedy in their emphases on the individual — the tea-baggers, the clingers, the Cliven Bundy Neanderthals, the Palins in their Alaska haunts, and the Duck Dynasty freaks. These are not the sort of successful people that we want to the world to associate with America, not when we have suitably green, suitably diverse zillionaires who know where to eat in Paris.
Obama believes in his own mind, that he has “cool.” Or what his wife calls “swag.” The very wealthy are with him also because he instructs them how to indulge, to ignore the problems of others, to be narcissistic and self-absorbed with a veneer of hipster cool. Golf, shoot hoops, wear shades, hang with Jay-Z and Beyonce, talk about your rap menu on your iPhone, fluctuate your cadences, do your Final Four predictions — all that means you can be cool and very rich and very self-absorbed while fooling hoi polloi and feeling great about your privilege at the same time. If you are a jean- and T-shirt wearing Silicon magnifico, Obama is your guy. The palatial estate, the imported cars, the indulgent hobbies — they are not really one-percenter excesses (try water skiing for that), but the swag that assures others that outsourcing, offshoring, tax-avoiding, lobbying, and insider cronyism are just part of the hip deal.
Before we reach November of 2016, we will see unimaginable things under this administration, but one of them will not be a defection of his constituencies.
As for his “uh’s, and ah’s, and mmm’s, and erm’s, and er’s, and um’s, and ah’s, and uh, and ah, and erm” I have a perfect solution. Rather than spend more taxpayer money on very expensive, elitist elocution lessons, We The People will be much better served with the following big hit from the heady days of 1958 titled The Witch Doctor, with lyrics very much attuned to the Impeachable Imposter’s vocabulary, especially-so when he is sans teleprompter. Command him to repeat these lyrics at least three times per day, on the golf course, and the basketball court, and flying around on the big jet, and when he gets bored in the White House with his feet on the antique furniture .. you know, kinda 24/7 discipline, as it were – as in Ooh Eeh Ooh Ah Aah Ting Tang Walla Walla Bing-Bang; Ooh Eeh Ooh Ah Aah Ting Tang Walla Walla Bing-Bang – Ta-Da!! 

 
The Witch Doctor president indeed…
 

 

ENCORE!! ENCORE!! ENCORE!! .. BRAVO!! BRAVO!! BRAVO!!
At least we will have found SOMETHING he’s good at … 😉 ♥

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