Exit reality

We are no longer seeking “accountability” and “transparency.”  They left town shortly after the final election results were posted in the fall of 2008.  The minute it was clear that Barack Hussein Obama II won the presidency – the media went euphoric.  Actually it would be more accurate to say, “They fell in love and smoke got in their eyes.”

They were smitten.   To some it was a youthful crush – the inability to see/think/relate to reality.  Some indescribable force had taken over their reasoning.  All they could do was float around in a dreamlike unconsciousness and swoon.  To others it was full blown adult passion.  Uncontrollable abandonment of their principles, if any; their training, if any; their objectivity, if any;  their actions.  Surging, pulsing, physiological passion demanding consummation.  Constant, continual, immediate fulfillment of their overwhelming desire to be near him; with him; around him; physically and emotionally and totally.   In his space.  Gushing.  Fawning.

All ages.  But mostly the women.  And the gays.  And the blacks – 90+% of the blacks knew that deliverance had arrived.  Those of us who had doubts can well remember the scene – giddiness.  Silliness. High hopes with expectations of “getting our piece of the pie.”  We even wrote, back then, in hip hop –  rap style, exactly that thought.  Please go to:  http://thefundamentalsus.blogspot.com/2009/03/march-madness.html

Why bother rehashing the trip down memory lane to this moment in time?  The congress has failed us – the supreme court is neither.  Neither a court; most certainly not supreme except in its own imagination.   It is a joke.

In less than five years we now see a man with no skill set.  No principles.  Not even interest in the job.  Just hanging out – day at a time – prancing around to carefully managed audiences – spreading the same rhetorical nonsense that got him where he is.  He rode in on that horse called “rhetoric” and he darn well intends to leave on it.  What else can he do?

What happened to his supporters?  In the media?  Dumbfounded.  Stunned.  Unable to recover from their shock.  Unable to turn on him less they lose all that they believed in – hoped for – lived for.  What do they do now?  Hang out at their fancy parties and commiserate?  That is no fun.  Pull down an extra martini or two – on top of the normal three and pretend?  Depressing.  Double up on their sexual affairs?  Start writing the books about their disillusionment?  Wait for someone else to do the first one?  Too afraid to be honest?  Take the heat?  But don’t wait too long – don’t want to be the last book out, or even in the middle of the pack, describing the rapid rise and fall of hope and change.

In less than five years, it’s gone.  What happened?

It was never there.  And they don’t get it to this day.  It never existed.  There was never any reality to this adventure.  It all existed in their imaginations.  Reality exited.

Watching it all carefully, from the shadows, is an old woman, wondering, “How do I make it work for me?”

Dare she call it what it is?

Not a chance.  She doesn't know.