I learned a new word this week, which is the definition of a busker. Ever heard of it? Me, neither, although I’m sure it was in Dr. Johnson’s first dictionary in 1755.
A busker is like an organ grinder and his monkey. A street musician in Nashville playing for quarters on Music Row, or some young-gun plying his wares on Beale Street in Memphis. I recall fondly a drummer outside the Target Center in Minneapolis who fancied himself a Buddy Rich, playing for donations, and banging away quite cleverly on orange, inverted, Home Depot five gallon pails in lieu of a set of drums.
One is never too old to learn a new word.
That’s when I realized our president is a busker. What a relief. I’ve been trying to describe him for nearly ten years since some outside force launched him into the national consciousness, and now I get a new word out of it. This clown or somebody close to him wrote an autobiography when he was 35 years old.
When I was 35 years old I was still trying to figure out my new garage-door opener.
The President of the United States has demonstrated himself to be nothing more than a street musician, and organ grinder without monkey, or a monkey without an organ grinder, performing at curbsides and entrances, and begging for acceptance, when he isn’t looking to establish a slush fund through illegal donations in the interim. Bill Clinton, though the ultimate, inbred, street hustler, could never be considered a busker. Even HE would not sink to that level……………………..though we all know he’d be willing if he had to do so as a last resort. (let’s not digress right now about Hillary’s proclivities) It’s a good thing her mother is deceased because if she were to die today, we’d know Hillary was at the wheel because there would be tire tracks going forward AND backward to make sure she got the job done.
Let’s talk about Obama’s remarks after another slaughter, shall we? Obtuse would be a kind word to describe his comments as well as “deranged” on the heels of the Naval Yard killings, but it goes beyond that assessment into the Land of Oz, or the Twilight Zone, or Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle , his unabashed affection for gay actor Kal Penn aside.
I used to live in DC. The slaughter took place less than two linear miles from the White House, and Howdy Doody decides to give a mass-murder lip service before launching into a campaign speech. Even the punk in North Korea was saying to himself, “Dis Man. He be crazy.”
No kidding. He actually got yet another pass from the media after saying last Thursday, “Raising the debt ceiling will not increase our national debt.” Good Lord, Mr. President. Please share those drugs you are taking.
The press is not absolved of any ignominious behavior, either, although we have every right to expect a standard to be set by our president. The media ran with the AK 15 assault rifle story as if it was dictated in Biblical terms, and then we find out it was the assassin’s hand gun that did all the damage. O-o-o-h. That didn’t fit the president’s template, yet it didn’t stop the lock-step media from clarifying for a couple days afterwards, and nobody, and I mean nobody, questioned the campaign speech President Busker delivered instead of paying homage to the innocent dead at the hands of some whack-job.
That isn’t leadership. It isn’t statesman-like. It is the sign of a weakling, somebody’s automaton, and a puppet for some foreign interest. Somebody ought to tell him: you get two terms, Barry. You really don’t get to become a king, even though your handlers told you that was a possibility.
I think about those in the slaughter at the Navy Yard. Good bye, honey. See you tonight. Are we having brats or burgers. They walk into work, and get greeted by a bullet. Bam! Life has changed for their entire families. Life will never be the same for their families, and at a time of extreme wont, The Busker takes out his guitar and decides it’s a good time to start playing for nickels, dimes, and quarters.
If it isn’t the Syrian issue providing a distraction, it’s the Navy Yard shootings. If it isn’t the Navy Yard shootings, it’s the budget crisis. If it isn’t the budget crisis, it’s Hillary’s early entry into the 2016 race, and if it isn’t her entry into the next presidential election, it’s a diatribe on global warming and “climate change.” The media is complicit in these sleight of hand shenanigans and is grossly enabling participants, and it is not only disgustingly nauseating, it is impossible to explain. Was everybody absent the day they taught ethics in journalism school?
And, where is Congress? Darrell Issa. You primp and preen on TV nightly for face time, but you’re like economists: if you lay them all end to end to end, they still wouldn’t reach a conclusion. What’s your game, Jane? Do you have an end-game in mind, or are you just in search of adulation and getting re-elected in your district?
There are grounds here a child could observe with respect for impeachment, and all you do is conduct interviews to further your own rep. You are, in fact, as indictable as this president.
Or, do you just caddy for Barry and Boehner when you’re not seeking more ego-gratification?
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