By Irene F. Starkehaus -
The State of the Union speech was precisely what we all thought it would be, down to the last justification, the last delusion, the last whine, the last admonishment. As usual, it was phoned in and poorly considered. And sadly, it was no different from last year's speech in those respects. It was no different than 2012. You could have accidentally watched SOTUS 2010 and nary even noticed the difference.
In fact, the only bright moment in the viewing any of last night's performance was the one where you realized that he won't be delivering SOTUS in 2017 and that there's actually a light at the end of this dark, decaying tunnel:
Got that? Obama's one tough S.O.B. He's the man. He got it done. And don't be taking Obama's word for it either. Just ask Osama Bin Laden. That's right. Osama-Bin-Laden. But hey what? You can't ask Osama Bin Laden 'cuz Bin Laden is dead 'cuz Obama whooped his sorry butt. Boo-yeah! Take a victory lap, Mr. President. Now that's what I'm talkin' about.
Seriously. If we can't elect someone who knows what he's doing after eight years of this horse nonsense, then we need to cut bait and get ourselves on the first rocket off this planet. The State of the Union should not be treated like an episode of Judge Judy rather than the constitutional requirement and honor that it is.
Rhetorical retread, that's all we got from Obama…like even he was tired of the charade. Frankly, the most nuanced part of the evening came in watching Paul Ryan's play by play facial tics in reaction to the president's oratory maleficence. Everyone said that the drinking game for the State of the Union should be that you take a shot of whatever you've got when the president says the words me, I or myself? The better game would be to take a shot when Paul Ryan rolls his eyes. Oh, and take two shots when Vice President nods off or begins to drool.
Paul Ryan barely contained his dismay and/or amusement, and it was a little strange coming from a Washington insider but oddly affirming to watch. Paul Ryan, by the way, should not play poker under any circumstances given his inability to hide what he's thinking. That's just a bit of friendly advice from someone who enjoys reading faces. Biden, on the other hand, would be okay at cards based on his blank, unfettered stare other than he'd keep betting other people's money because they didn't build those chips.
Anyway, did I say that the SOTUS was merely predictable? Scratch that. Upon further reflection, it was worse than predictable because on top of his tedious scorn for political opposition and his anticipated apologetics for Islamic terror that we've all come to know and love, the president's tone was shrill, piercing and almost seizure inducing. So you're maybe wondering why Obama was screeching with such energy during this swan song that is to be his last State of the Union?
I've developed a quick test to determine when Barack Obama knows he's a failure.
If you were impressed at how Obama could talk about our durable economy and hold that C in altissimo without passing out? If at any time during his affordable college tuition riff your eardrums started to bleed? If your retriever brought you his ball thinking that you wanted to play fetch when Obama spoke about bipartisanship? If your wine glass shattered in your hand when Obama waxed poetic about our armed forces? Well then, the president just might be defensive.
I'm serious. Did you get the sense that he was speaking at about two decibels higher than the human ear can sustain? By the end of the evening, I felt like I had sat through a Mariah Cary concert where she took an extra encore to belt out a rendition of My Way to a bag pipe accompaniment. The president knows he's a catastrophe.
You know, I've long since given up on assimilating to the staccato patois of a Barack Obama lecture but shrill? Oh my, he was shrill. I'm actually wondering if I can expense the house plants that withered during his libretto on our booming economy or if that would be seen as a red flag to the IRS.
We're coming up on 8 years – the end of a seemingly unending presidency. For the first time in my life, I have the vaguest inclination of how the Jews felt after wandering the desert for 40 years and then finally seeing the Promised Land.
We too can see the Promised Land. All it takes is looking beyond the barren wasteland toward Election 2016. I think it's possible that we might actually survive this thing. And the best news is that, absent an executive order requiring a State of the Union every six months, we will never again have to live through an atrocity such as this.
