I believe Barack Obama should start wearing a stove pipe hat and an ear-to-ear chin strap beard. I believe he should start lookin’ like Lincoln.
I’m hopeful that sartorial little conceit will be sufficient to cause the heads of virulent Obama haters to simultaneously explode.
And wouldn’t that be cool?
Far right Republicans believe they are so superior to the rest of us. They know President Obama is a closet Muslim socialist. They know he was born in Kenya. They know he’s trying to indoctrinate our innocents with his little “Just Say No” speeches to captive classrooms.
All I know is this: When it comes to hatred, they are far superior to me.
I thought I hated George Bush. I hated that he did nothing to reach out to the 50.1 percent of the country that voted for Al Gore in a disputed election. I hated that he chose to run the country by color-coded fear charts after 9/11. And I hated that he goaded the country into a long and costly war for make-believe reasons that still cannot be fathomed.
I now understand I’m a piker when it comes to hatred.
I’ve never seen such a bloodlust loosed on the country where so many people, including many with conservative media megaphones, are cheerleading the craziest, most well-armed people among us to take what they consider patriotic action to save the country.
It’s like America has become Rock Ridge in “Blazing Saddles” with President Obama playing the Cleavon Little character.
They carry guns to his speeches. They wear T-shirts boasting about the need to soak the ground with the blood of tyrants.
God help us.
Now the media are finally getting around to asking out loud, gee, could it be, gadzooks, motivated by racism?
Why, of course it is.
I believe the crazies who hate him, fear him -- and they should. They fear him because if he succeeds he will leave an indelible and inspiring example to generations of children, white and black, who will vote in ways that will forever banish the far right to the redneck backwoods of national politics.
It’s understandable. If Republicans had maybe a single charismatic and eloquent minority candidate for national office capable of reaching out to all voters, I’d feel the same way.
Of course, for that to happen, the Republicans will first need to find a maybe a single minority voter to support the ticket.
If I was a mainstream Republican, I’d be dismayed that my party has lurched so far and so violently to the right.
But that is where the dark, bitter soul of the once Grand Ol’ Party today resides. It is the racist face of a party of hatred that convinces people like me that a majority of their supporters would be thrilled to see our minority president dead.
I can’t imagine what it would be like to go through life consumed by such blind hatred. It must be dismal.
I wish I could help them. I wish I could tell them that politics is a pendulum. I wish I could convince them that the doomsday scenarios that conservatives going back to American movement founder Gen. Benedict Arnold clear through government-hater Tim McVeigh have been dead wrong.
But I don’t have the eloquence or platform to perform that feat.
So I’d just like to promote things that’ll help their heads explode.
I think dressing Obama like Lincoln would do it. Of course, dressing like Pat Sajak might do it, too.
Simple provocations ("He’s comin’ for your guns then he’s comin’ for your women!") ought to be enough to raise the blood pressure of these haters to self-lethal levels.
We could convene groups of fair-minded citizens to determine which of the worst of the far right crazies should be marked for full and final treatment.
At last, a true death panel I can support.
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