Recognizing Ineptitude

Sooner or later, those who voted for Barack Hussein Obama will no longer be able to avoid the contrition that experience demands. As the evidence of a grand experiment gone awry comes more sharply into focus for an increasing number of Americans, those who have selfishly resisted their obligatory mea culpas will find themselves ever increasingly unable to resist the forces exerted by their peers in acknowledging that a simple lapse in judgement will not long stand the litmus test of truth, nor suffice as a satisfactory excuse for the damage to come. We have shot ourselves in the collective foot.

OK, so what do we do now? Continue to ignore our hemorrhaging modes of primitive transportation, or apply tourniquets to stem the blood loss while offering embarrassed and sheepish grins at our foolishness? Personally, I've become rather possessive of my life-sustaining bodily fluids, so I'm going to opt for the cessation of my bleeding despite the fact that it was actually my neighbor who bears the responsibility for my wounds. Trust me, mine are not self-inflicted.

Yesterday, speaking before 3,500 military members and their families at Naval Air Station Jacksonville, Obama had this to say:

"I will never rush the solemn decision of sending you into harm’s way".

Despite the desperate pleas from his hand-picked commander in Afghanistan, Obama is still "not rushing" his decision.

Obama has had accomplishments, however. In only nine months in office, he has already tied former President George W. Bush for rounds of golf played. It might have taken him a bit longer to reach such a benchmark had it not been for the fact that President Bush stopped playing golf in 2003, after the invasion of Iraq. Bush's reasoning was that it would appear unseemly to be enjoying days on the golf course while young men and women fought for their country. Obama exhibits no such qualms.

Obama does not to seem to be at all uncomfortable, either, in holding his weekly Wednesday night soirees in our White House while soldiers in Afghanistan die. Nor does he shy away from fabulous and luxurious vacations with his wife, Michelle, as bombs explode and helicopters collide. Rest assured, however, that while he's dancing the night away, he is constantly wrestling with the decision of meeting General McChrystal's military need.

He'll never rush such a decision, yet his socialist plans bear such an incredible urgency that congresspeople can't even have time to read that upon which they're voting. He'll keep the General waiting, but he'll tear through the nation's wealth faster than a speeding bullet. He'll fly all over the world and apologize for America's audacity to exist, encouraging our enemies to escalate hostilities in Iraq and Afghanistan, and shamelessly offer empty promises to military members in places like Jacksonville.

I wish he'd promise his constituency that he'd never rush to surrender America's sovereignty. I wish he'd promise his constituency that he'd never rush to bankrupt America's finances. I wish he'd promise his constituency that he'd never rush to enslave every one of us. Then again, his promises are worth less than the U.S. dollar has become, thanks in large part to his and his compadre's policies. The only one he will keep is the unspoken promise to let those soldiers in Afghanistan disappear through attrition. He clearly has no intentions of sending help.

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