PROBLEM SOLVED!

“Is a puzzlement!” the King of Siam might have declared when observing B.O. become the darling, the favored bed companion, of the various news media bombarding us. They, you must understand, are all part of Horrywood (q.v., a previous post here), and if anyone doubts that news is entertainment, he should ask himself how there could be such amusing, expensive competition over reading into a camera and selectively distorting events occurring in the world?

At any rate, I, Yves Chauvire, (pronounced approximately as SHOW vee ray – this computer lacks the accent mark over the “e.”) solved the puzzlement, and it was only necessary to reflect a little on Horrywood’s harvest. Once again, I’ll use the abbreviation, “p.b.” to mean “partial black” and to designate people that are all or partially of the black race.

As much as possible I avoid network television, but now and then a friend, relative, medical office, or hotel room perpetrates it on me. More often than that, though, I watch Horrywood films, and I’m learning interesting, surprising lessons from all these sources.

Every group of people doing something together includes p.b.’s; put a collection of people in a room, and there will be a p.b. guy and a white girl on a couch, while others are distributed variously (It’s as if tax-evading Spike Lee’s one and only theme dictates all the ridiculous TV commercials.); the chief of the superhumanly intelligent research team is a p.b., as is the head cop dictating to and masterminding the activities of all the other cops, or, for that matter, the head anything dictating to all the other anythings.

To me and my experience this is Horrywood Fantasyland at its most erroneous; it’s nowhere I’ve ever lived, and I’ve lived and worked all over this country of ours, in all points of the compass and in everything from little towns to monster cities.

What I conclude, therefore, is that along came a p.b. candidate wanna be, on whom Horrywood, in its Affirmative Action frenzy, pounced to convert to a candidate. Now it is working frenetically – truth, ethics, sense, security, standards, economics, justice be damned – to promote him, under its freakish vision of the world, to the Presidency.

After understanding the news media romance with B.O., I began thinking how Horrywood would present the cinematic version of his ascendancy. It would be produced by Spielberg, except that Spike Lee would have responsibility for the sex scenes. Background music would be by Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, 2 Live Crew, and Ludicris. Mike Tyson and Peggy Lipton would play his father and mother, respectively, with Osama bin Laden as her second husband. Dustin Hoffman would have the title roll with Queen Latifah as the personable Michelle and Kim Basinger her stand-in for the erotic scenes. (By the way, where has the good wife gone? Do the Demo strategists have her in a cage somewhere with a rag stuffed in her mouth?) Madonna and Paris Hilton should be able to handle the roles of the Obama children. Robert Mugabe would play Jermiah Wright, Alec Baldwin, Bill Ayers, and Jeremiah Wright would have the dual roles of Mayor Daley and the Chaplain of the U.S. Senate. I can see Jesse Jackson as Joe Biden and Al Sharpton as Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. Horrywood, as usual, would take some liberties with the facts as known.

I want to say “God forbid!” to the concept of B.O. as president of as much as my county garbage commission, though as an official nation and a government brandishing “In God We Trust” as a motto, we affront God a thousand times a day. Why would He listen to us, or perhaps is all the woe besetting us lately the result of such observation? Still, deliver us from the Horrywood disaster of an Obama nation, which I still cannot help seeing as an ABOMINATION.

I should add that I do not dislike black people. Any having had dealings with me have been treated as kindly, congenially, and equitably as all others. On the other hand I tend to bristle when some agency or another seeks to stuff something down my throat.