Art of the Union

If I were President Obama, I would invest in a telescope so that I could thank every lucky star in the sky. The man has attained one mighty blessing in the form of a lackluster Republican Presidential field. The candidates are so bad that I would not be surprised if the eventual Republican nominee ran on the platform “I learned how to tie my shoes, so can America.” And if you don’t think that the nominee is going to be Mitt Romney then you must live in the most foolish of paradises. Herman Cain groped himself out of the spotlight, and I doubt Newt Gingrich will have a lasting lead seeing that he is one of the finest connoisseurs of Freddie Mac paychecks. It seems the only thing Newt enjoys more than the mortgage monsters money is other mens wives. But regardless of my feelings for Newt the true problem for me is that I am a democrat who does not wish to vote for Obama again, but have nowhere else to go. I find myself a man without a voice, searching under the table for the cleanest piece of chewed gum.

While I am an adamant progressive, my zeal for social justice does not blind me to the fact that the man voted in as the new democratic voice has governed as a moderate Republican. Only recently has he done any sort of liberal leading, mostly in an attempt to posture himself for the 2012 race and hopefully win back his now jaded and disenfranchised base. What I find most disheartening though, is that the administration finds his base so short-sighted that last minute deals and sly moves can make up for 3 years of let down and lies. As if voters such as myself are faithful dogs that can be fed a fair tax flavored snausage to make us forget that the headline on the newspaper he just beat us with read “Obama Extends Bush Tax Cuts.”