Thursday, January 5, 2017

Song of Myself: Imagining Obama Dropping His Mask

I'm standing here about to deliver a "farewell address" full of spin, and I'm thinking, I've been spinning my whole life, and I'm sick of it.  With only a few weeks left on the big stage, I feel . . . liberated.

Look, I'm tossing the prepared statement.  Josh, turn off the teleprompter.  Time to share the real skinny about who I am and where I tried to take the country.  Hint: I'm a divider, not a uniter.

But first, a tip of the hat to the folks who pegged me from the get-go, although you don't know the half of it.  And a "thank you" to the gullible millions who never figured out that for eight years I worked hard and played them for fools.


Twice I swore an oath to "preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States."  In fact, the lip service I paid the yellowed document and the dead white men who wrote it obscured my real objective: transitioning America to a Nordics-style socialist state that would be free, free at last from the shackles of the Founders' prescriptions.

Imagine!  A government guided by a rule of law guaranteeing not equality of opportunity but equality of outcome, not freedom to speak freely but freedom to speak responsibly.

To get us to there, I had to convince you I was a good guy doing my best within a broken system.  I needed you fearful, uncertain of the future, and open to another way.  So I ordered my apparatchiks to devise policies and executive orders that weakened the military, screwed up healthcare, retarded economic growth, promoted civil unrest, and incited racial division.  Naturally, I was above it all, and blameless.

The unraveling began well.  But my efforts to turn the American dream into a nightmare and then into a nanny state stalled when Republicans took the House in 2010 and added the Senate in 2014. For the last six years, congressional obstructionism forced me to scale back my administration's assault on the biggest impediment to America's transformation: the Constitution.

Frustrating.  More than once I considered doing a "reverse parliamentarian"-- declaring a vote of "no confidence" in Congress and ordering its dissolution.  I regret not making the attempt.

Amazing how many never tumbled to a key element of my real agenda: to redistribute wealth so all might live in harmony and with dignity?  No!  No!  No!  I wanted to redistribute misery, not wealth.  I wanted the "haves" and "have nots" to become the "have somes" and the "don't have enoughs."  I wanted fiscal and civic chaos to spark public rejection of capitalism and representative democracy. ObamaCare was supposed to be the tipping point to a progressive revolution.

How ironic the post-election update from HHS suggesting millennials were beginning to enroll in numbers perhaps sufficient to save the private insurance industry from insolvency.

That was never my intent.  If you were between the ages of 27 and 45 when this turkey passed, maybe you didn't receive the memo: you're immortal. You don't need insurance, so don't enroll.  The fine is a joke.

I repeat: ObamaCare was meant to crash and burn.  And the process is well along.  Despite the uptick in enrollment, insurance companies are going belly-up, along with the "co-oops," as I like to call them.  I never intended to come to their rescue.  And now it's too late, even for the new administration.  Repeal and replace?  Don't make me laugh.  Are you ready for government healthcare?  You're welcome.

Not the game changer I'd hoped for, but a win is a win.

On another subject: I am happy to report the number of Americans who have given up looking for employment is approaching 100 million.  This eases the competition for our fifty million undocumented guest residents who need work until they are naturalized, register as Democrats, and are on the public dole.

I encourage the long-term unemployed who are unhappy with me to seek out opportunities in Honduras and Nicaragua. 

The Second Amendment remains a bone in my throat.  Recently, I realized the need to be creative in expelling it.  At my request, the United Nations has listed the U. S. a state sponsor of terrorism.  This designation will cut off the foreign markets of American firearms and ammunition manufacturers. The Donald will be a while untangling this knot.

I was disturbed to learn of the newly discovered shale rock deposits in West Texas and the 200 billion barrel oil field straddling North Dakota and Canada.  Exploitation of the latter, in particular, could drive the price of gasoline down to one dollar a gallon, threatening the sale of plug-in autos and the development of windmobiles.

Tonight I declare the entire state of North Dakota a national monument.

Yes, Canada will try to flood us with cheap fuel from their reserves. To thwart the predatory under-pricing of gasoline that would result, the EPA, which I'm today designating an entity independent of the federal government, will order refineries to produce costly new eco-friendly formulas for all grades.  Thus the price of gas will remain high without tax hikes that would hurt the middle class.

On international matters:

Last summer, at my urging, the World Health Organization declared American imperialism a contagion.  I asked State and Defense to look into the charge.  They identified the USS Stennis, Reagan, and Truman as carriers.  All three are now back home and in indefinite quarantine.

Good news from Ramsey Clark, my Special Envoy to Iran. The Iranians are so focused on building a nuclear weapon, they've cut back on mischief-making in Iraq and Afghanistan.  To encourage such behavior, I've offered to share "clean nuke" technology with Iran's military, and they appear receptive. This may be a breakthrough.  After all, neutron bombs are good for the environment.

Oh, a shout-out to Ayatollah Khomeini: should an Iranian attack on the Zionist state appear imminent before the inauguration, I will order a preemptive nuclear strike on the Israeli resort city of Eilat.  Iran would of course abort their action, and Israel would not then have cause to vaporize Tehran, saving millions of lives and denying the mullahs and ayatollahs their martyrdom.

On a personal note: people sometimes ask me if I am humbled by commanding the mightiest military on earth.  I am not. I've grown in office.  The bin Laden raid, troops in Syria and Libya, drone attacks in Pockeestan, DNC agents disrupting Tea Party rallies--I'm comfortable using force to advance a progressive agenda.

Everybody says Putin ate my lunch. Wrong.

Through a combination of bluster and pusillanimity, I tricked the thug into going all in on Syria with ships, armaments, and troops.  The adventure is costing Putin dearly.

True, certain Eastern European allies now doubt our commitment to protect them from the waking Bear.  As well they should.  I want Putin to start thinking about reconstituting the Warsaw Pact and extending Russian influence to the Atlantic as we pull back.

Understand, I'm playing the long game.  The only way to check a new Russian Empire is to encourage one resembling the old Soviet model.  Two years from now the country is bigger, bloated, and hidebound again.  More territory to defend, obscene military budgets, restive populations.  The USSR 2.0--a lumbering, doomed giant.  Meanwhile, we're sitting pretty on the sidelines, a no-threat former superpower watching it all go down.

To help things along, tomorrow I'll announce U.S. participation in Putin's proposed economic initiative to ease the transition to Russian hegemony on the Continent.  He's calling it the ´´Greater European Co-Prosperity Sphere.´´

A few more domestic notes: 

At Michelle's urging, I've ordered food stamp distribution kiosks established in every Walmart. This EO has been marked "unrescindable." Also, the permanent bureaucracy at Commerce will begin enforcing the First Lady’s edict prohibiting the transportation of junk food across state lines.

I'm done.  Ten minutes from now I'll be on Air Force One, heading back to our vacation compound in Hawaii.  Michelle likes her space, so she'll follow in Air Force Two with her mother and the girls. Accompanying us on several military transports: family friends, staffers and their families, loyal donors, and my favorite media familiars.  We're going to spend the last ten days of my presidency on the beach, with taxpayers funding a blowout lasting through the inauguration.

I offered to Skype in during the swearing-in to show some virtual respect, but Trump wasn't interested.

For those watching and listening who would like to be part of my permanent government-in-exile, e mail me at

Ciao, and may God help America.

Author's note:

I’ve been writing Obama and Hillary satire for almost ten years.  Now Hillary’s done, and in a few weeks, Obama will be moving on, thank God.  As will I.  

“Song of Myself: Imagining Obama Dropping His Mask” is in part original and current and in part a retrospective that incorporates some favorite lines recycled from my book and blog.

And so . . .

Ms. Lucianne, thank you for everything.
Michael Walsh, I’m forever in your debt.
StormCnter, timber queen, you two are the best. 


Steve Grammatico

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