The HOPE Haze

There are days when I feel so out of it, so alienated, that I wonder if I've gone insane or suffer some deep personality disorder. After yesterday's drool fest, where countless adults behaved like sugar-crazed children, I certainly hope that I'm nuts. Because if I'm not, if what I perceive is actually true, then we are so beyond fucked that the glimmer of fucked is a fuzzy speck on the horizon.

Now, I don't want to feel this way; I have enough negative emotions as it is. But after watching the $150 million imperial saturnalia, augmented by the siren songs of fawners, spin doctors, and state mouthpieces, despair and anxiety rage inside my battered brain. Even worse, average people loved it. Simply fucking loved it. Everywhere I went online, it was the same maypole dance, the same sighing, the same crying. "Free at last!" was the collective chant, as though Bush and Cheney were run out of Washington by revolutionary forces. If only. "I thank President Bush for his service to our nation," said Obama, praising the war criminal's "generosity and cooperation" in helping him prepare to assume the same role.

What's that? You say Obama won't commit war crimes? That he thanked Bush because he's "post-partisan" and sees the Big Picture? Maybe you're right. Maybe the new president will transform his office into something other than it's been since at least 1945. Maybe he has a Secret Plan that lesser minds like ours cannot fully grasp. "Maybe" itself is variant of HOPE, and you know how much HOPE means these days. Besides, Barry looks smooth and cool, Michelle is hot, their daughters cute, so if nothing else we can feast on that, like munching grass on a sunny meadow under Obama's benevolent gaze.

Wow. I feel better already!

As he did throughout his campaign, Obama delivered an inaugural speech loaded with clichés, falsehoods, and myths, but crafted in a way that anyone could project on it anything they liked. Many online libs fairly jerked off to the speech, overwhelmed by Obama's force and vision, his call to our "better selves," his homilies to God, blood, and soil. Then again, many liberals love state power when a Democrat is in charge, so their arousal was expected, at least by lunatics like me. How long will liberals remain stimulated? I'll rub my psychic dildo and predict that their frenzied self-abuse will never really cease, so long as Obama's in office. Oh, there'll be some lulls when the orgasms aren't as intense. But rest assured that the stroking will continue, lubricated or dry. The psychic dildo's rarely wrong.

Hold on, Herr Cynic! Should Obama stray from his promises, liberals will be the first to challenge him, because Obama cares what The People think, especially those who voted for him no matter what he said. Again, I seriously doubt this will happen. Does anyone truly expect a mass liberal revolt against the Democratic Party? Whimpering, yes. Rubbing hands, sure. Netroots defection? Pardon me for a moment.

(Leaves desk, walks barefoot into the snow, releases a loud laugh that at first sounds cheerful, but quickly mutates into a twisted emotional outcry, almost non-human, sending the squirrels back to their nests, causing the crows to caw in unison. The neighbor across the street who still has her Obama/Biden yard sign up approaches and asks if there's anything wrong. She is told that the opposite is true -- that the hideous screaming is actually a cry of joy for living to see this wonderful new age. She smiles and starts howling as well, because we are Americans, and we will not apologize for our way of life.)

Anyway, these should prove to be interesting days. If you tire of liberal tug jobs, I'll be here with my peeling sandwich board, scrawling whatever delirium my brain insists is real. And of course, the psychic dildo. Why should Obamaites have all the fun?