Exclusive: A Page from Barack Obama’s Diary – Let’s Crack Open a Beer and Start the Healing
by PAM MEISTER
July 30, 2009
Despite the apprehension I’m feeling about tonight, I’m ready for “beer night” with my pal, Henry “Skip” Gates, Jr., and
his oppressor Sgt. James Crowley. I have a great selection of drinks and snacks ready for my guests: Schlitz, Old Milwaukee, Hamm’s and Pabst Blue Ribbon, peanuts, pretzels, doughnuts, Slim Jims, and pork rinds.
Oh, and for Skip and me there’s champagne and sparkling water, with a fresh assortment of fruit, crudités and a cheesecake sampler platter. You don’t expect us to imbibe in the swill I’m providing for Crowley, do you?
Honestly, I cannot understand what all the hooh hah is about. Although I’m the president, first and foremost I’m a community organizer. I agitate. That’s what community organizers do. If he were alive today, Saul Alinsky would be proud of me. I was also a member of Rev. Wright’s congregation for 20 years, and have made my views on typical white people (even dear old Granny) known on a number of occasions – even in my book. Did no one pay attention to my past during the campaign? If they had, I probably wouldn’t be where I am today. Thanks, mainstream media!
But my poll numbers are way down, and so I have to fall back on the fallacy that helped me get elected – that of the “post-racial” president. Oh, and continuing to blame Bush for all of my woes can’t hurt either, can it? Like I told the suckers town hall participants in North Carolina yesterday, "I can't help but remember that those same critics contributed to the $1.3 trillion deficit that I inherited when I took office. I mean, seriously. I'm now president, so I'm responsible for solving it...You hand me a $1.3 trillion bill and you're complaining six months later because we haven't paid it all back." Bush was a leftist scapegoat for eight years. I’m sure he won’t mind if I keep on using him as a punching bag for a little while longer.
Look, Diary, I have to be honest with you: Being president is hard. I love the perks, of course – round-the-clock security, free accommodations, free travel around the country and around the world – all paid for by bitter clingers – and being adored by slavering fans wherever I go isn’t too shabby either. Plus, I love being able to go around the world and apologize for how horrible America is. I’ve been waiting for this chance all my life. However, I didn’t realize people would actually expect me to be accountable for anything! I never ran anything before, so you’d think they’d cut me some slack, but no – the voters expect results! They also expect me to behave with decorum and good taste at all times. Well, screw the voters. I’m the president, and I’ll do things my way. They can just suck it up.
Anyway, back to Crowley and Gates. Turns out they have something in common, aside from having the good taste to accept my invitation to “break bread” with me. Apparently they both have Irish ancestry. That probably appalls Skip, considering his feelings about whitey, but take it from me – having white blood isn’t necessarily a barrier to success.
I admit I am disappointed in Cambridge police officer Kelly King, the sister who not only defended Crowley’s actions but also said she would not vote for me again. Don’t worry; I have Rahm and ACORN on the case, ready to give her the Joe the Plumber treatment. I’m sure there are some skeletons rattling around in her closet just waiting to get out. No one makes me look bad publicly and gets away with it. It’s the Chicago way, baby!
One thing, though – this faux controversy couldn’t have come at a better time for me. My plans for socialized medicine are coming apart at the seams because people are actually looking into what the plan entails! Even I don’t know everything that’s in there, and you can bet no one in Congress knows either. John Conyers sure doesn’t. But you can’t really blame me for expecting the public to just remain complacent in their ignorance, considering they did when it came to my past during the campaign. So if my eagerness to blame white policemen for the ills that befall black society caused a little firestorm, it’s a price I’m willing to pay if it’ll take the heat out of the healthcare kitchen.
Gotta go, Diary –
whitey Crowley is at the door now.
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