Sore Winners and Big Losers

The step before enlightenment is nasty gloating.  At least that’s what Dalai Obama wagers.  Never mind the drum major marching the corps into a sewer: doltish fans too cool to learn human nature or math gave us the most un-presidential president imaginable.  Meeting the minimum age requirement is inadequate.

It’s not bad enough that we have to endure fears of Iranian nukes dotting the horizon before we run out of canned goods.  Having leftovers contaminated by fallout seems wasteful.  He’d be boasting to whoever’s in his bunker about lowering Earth’s carbon footprint.

America is so racist against the color of Obama’s skin. Wait: make that its thinness.  The prickly ruiner of dreams is dismissive of anyone who notes dolts in robes from that other branch could be wrong or that the labor force participation rate could be correct. What does observing conditions tell you that an insufferable executive can’t?

The man who can’t figure a way to discourage Iran other than daring them to behave is insecure despite the pomposity.  A 54-year-old child feels he’s right about everything despite every bit of evidence he’s wrong.  Presuming foes want the worst is bad enough for an effective leader.  It’s even worse when an executive who’s spread poverty and the ability of terror states to split atoms concludes those who notice his deal sucks want Iran to nuke us.  To deal with his incongruities, he projects fears that people might notice his America-loathing cloddishness on Major Garrett. He never even thought to lash out at our enemies, maybe because he doesn’t see them as such.

A little dignity is too much to ask.  The “I won” and “It’s. The. Law.” administration has a strange way of reaching across the aisle, namely with an activated switchblade in hand.  Remember the next time he acts like his agenda would be tainted by dissent that Republicans are the extremists who won’t compromise.  You may not be enjoying the exhausting reign of someone intent on enforcing his notions without hearing out the opposition’s ideas, much less including one or two. What’s truly appalling is how stupid the ideas are.

Circumstances doesn’t even feel superficially awesome at present.  The worst thing about entrusting power with the phonily affable is their idiotic take on cool.  Part of growing up is finally heeding the quiet nerds.  But today’s culture discourages studying. It’s easier to learn from memes generated by morons.  Those six-figure college degrees are really worth the frame’s cost.

Trying to sit at the popular lunch table is now life’s ultimate goal, with expectedly shallow results. Today’s kids never checked if the homecoming king and queen actually amounted to anything more than gym towel wrangler and mall food court sample toothpick supervisor, respectively.  Well, one did make it to president, although we’re experiencing the result of an American-loathing buffoon coasting on charm. Obama peaked in his fancy Hawaiian high school.

Getting what you want means you’re a success, claim alcoholics who snag a pint of Mohawk gin after taking money from grandma’s change purse. Obama never checks if anything he’s done is good, which is a habit he’ll learn upon reaching adulthood.  For now, the toddler’s tantrum gets him more cookies, which will never make him sick. He’ll wave his bounty about before wondering why that puking feeling emerges.

We’ve tried this even if he doesn’t know.  The very historically literate Obama deploys an untested ideology, at least by him. Humans know bowing to villains while pillaging domestic enterprises inevitably fails, at least those aware that the 20th century happened.  The only thing worse than sharing money is sharing friendship with global dastards.  Our president strangely advocates for both.  Someone who incessantly and irksomely claims he’s on the right side of history isn’t even correct if we start at his Year One.

An actual savior would be nice right about now.  Specifically, we could use an executive who’s actually competent, which is apparently a momentous request.  America seeks someone who isn’t smug as he repairs damage.  In other words, he’d be the precise opposite of what we have now. He won’t even scowl at his opponents once debt starts decreasing.

Wondering at present who will take this sap’s job is fun for the same reason as preseason football, namely because it signals we can start looking forward to what’s next.  The ceaseless presidential campaign hasn’t even really started yet, and we’ll have about 73 more Marvel movies released before we actually vote.  But previews are the only way to cope with a present lousy feature.

The squinty eyes and smug grin of a petulant little president make us yearn for the thought of relief.  If it seems like there are many Republican hopefuls, there should be more, as each offers the fantasy of an alternative to the priggish stench of statist failure.  Don’t limit your dreams.

The self-appointed messiah exhibits the spirit of a child.  It’s not a compliment.  Perhaps he senses his wins aren’t turning into victories.  In fact, the nation regresses as his agenda marches forward.  Lashing out with nonsensical bravado is his way of coping. I didn’t say you have to feel bad for him.

Anthony Bialy is a writer and “Red Eye” conservative in New York City. Follow him at Download a free ebook of his 2014 columns at


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