A.J. DiCintio
Putin's devastating KO
By A.J. DiCintio
No matter how profound the issues or scandals, the current administration's MO has been to avoid substance in favor of the corrupt politics of spin and ignore, ignore and spin, a strategy that, history teaches, often succeeds in gaining the confidence of a majority of the people. . . until the piper shows up.
However, as polls reveal, no amount of duplicitous White House propaganda or disregard for pursuing truth can prevent the public from perceiving this reality:
With respect to his influence regarding Syria and the rest of the world an effete, dithering, anchorless, contradictory Barack Obama has been knocked out cold by Vladimir Putin, a reality made all the more devastating by the fact the entire fight was viewed not by a cable-television-sized Pay Per View crowd but an audience that counts a huge percentage of the planet's seven billion souls.
Yes, there's no disputing what Russia's president did, with images of a pummeled, then prostrate, and now punch-drunk Obama continuing to be posted, telecast, emailed, face-booked, smart-phoned, and printed from Afghanistan to Zimbabwe.
All that remains, therefore, is the crucially important task of providing an imagined but thoroughly real history of the major events that led up to Vladimir "KGB" Putin's stunning but not surprising clocking of Barack "Community Organizer" Obama.
To begin at the very beginning, specifically, at the Russian's conception, it's essential to say that Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was clearly blessed with genetic material any aspiring fighter would die for.
However, despite Mark Twain's perceptive observation that being "well born" is "worth as much in a man as it is in a horse," it's also true that especially with respect to humans, DNA isn't everything.
Because of that fact, Honesty requires mentioning that without having spent 16 years in the hard-nosed, amoral environment of the main Soviet spy agency, Vlad never would have become the fighter who eventually launched and landed the Punch Seen and Heard Round the World.
With the facts on the table regarding how a fortuitous combination of nature and nurture permitted the Clintonesquely power and money hungry Putin to make a reality of the political life he had imagined for himself, it's possible to move on to how Vlad reacted when he first learned of the little known, purported Wunderkind who received his little political education from the Chicago Machine, Karl Marx, and Saul Alinsky, labored for a little time as a community organizer (a concept that required aides to do a little explaining), and authored two little books.
Dismissing all but one of those resume entries as dilettantish irrelevancies, Vladimir responded first with this fiery exclamation:
"Real books exhibit courage and genius, or, at the very least, brave, creative intellect! These are nothing more than little diaries celebrating a little egotistical self!"
Then, having calmed down enormously, he exclaimed again, albeit with a tone that was at once weighty and light:
"My, my, it makes me hope more than a little this. . .this. . .Obama becomes. . .what do they call it?. . . ah, yes, PO-TOOSE!"
By July of '08, Vlad's wish was well on its way to being fulfilled as indisputable political neophyte Barack Obama, who had not even been nominated as the Democratic candidate, traveled to Berlin, where, playing the role of self-anointed messiah, he amazingly presumed to lecture not just Europe but the entire world about foreign policy.
Meanwhile, watching the speech on a television whose high definitional technology revealed every ridiculous nuance of Obama's pompous posturing, Vladimir smiled a sardonic smile as he perceived not a wise head of state hardened by all of Reality's adamantine truths but a person capable of leading only a children's crusade, an arrogant greenhorn of an amateur who "struts and frets his hour upon the stage" full of sound, full of fury, and, most of all, full of himself.
Then, leaning back in his chair ever more confidant and comfortable with his smile, Vlad thought of the frightening nature of realpolitik; of Russia, China, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Iraq, and Iran; of Al-Qaeda, the Taliban, Hamas, Hezbollah, and radical Islam; of Jong-il, Ahmadinejad, al-Assad, and, of course, himself.
Moments later, his sardonic smile metamorphosed into one filled with hope that in November his dream for change in the American presidency would come true.
As it turned out, Putin's sweet dream didn't just materialize, it exploded in a luscious, almost embarrassing deliciousness; for fewer than six months after assuming the Oval Office, President Barack Obama embarked on an apology tour highlighted by as many half truth mea culpas and obsequiously groveling bows as he could possibly fit in.
For an encore, he followed up with a trip to Cairo, where, once again indulging his compulsion for delivering megalomaniacal speeches, he sought to democratize and modernize (via an "Arab Spring") cultures of the kind that prompted a Dutch general in Afghanistan to comment, "It's like walking through the Old Testament."
Regarding the former, Vladimir roared at the irony that the "intellectual" Obama knows nothing of Chekhov and therefore failed to realize that in response to his ostensibly rational enumeration of America's sins, enormous numbers of the world's population, especially those who despise America most, would react not with appreciation and understanding but violent emotions that madly conjure up visions of the United States as an incorrigible, insatiably greedy political and economic pig worthy only of being slaughtered.
With respect to the latter, the KGB hardened Putin opted for the irony of British understatement to utter "Arab Spring, indeed," a sardonic smile appearing once again as he realized he and his American counterpart were destined to come to blows, most likely over an event in the Middle East.
Never having harbored a single illusion regarding the oft-proved fecklessness of the international community, in March of '13 Vlad found himself shouting "Destined, indeed!" when Obama served up another delicious sweet with his thought-less, plan-less "red line" blather.
In fact, Russia's president became so certain of the coming fight's inevitability and his winning it in utterly dramatic fashion that when the president's secretary of state naively understated the number and influence of Islamist terrorists in Syria, he seized upon the fierce urgency of now to pull off a double mocking, explicitly calling out Barack Obama's most important diplomat as a "liar."
(Note that in reality Putin's use of "liar" actually doubled the double; for it sent both Bill and Hillary Clinton into ferocious Freudian fits of temple throbbing, epithet spewing, spit spraying anger).
As has been true for ages, one good mocking always produces another. So it was that the British Parliament sided with Vladimir, followed by Congress (in truth, the American people), leaving a stunned Obama no longer strutting but stumbling all over the world stage with only France's Socialist Hollande as his lone, perfectly oxymoronic and yet perfectly appropriate partner.
Immediately perceiving that the stumbling Obama bumbled unprotected on his left and right, Putin launched his astounding punch with a plan (which surely came to him as he meditated shirtless one afternoon) requiring Syria to promise to turn over its chemical weapons to an institution known only for its hypocrisy, bureaucratic corruption, and flaccid Security Council, which can pass no resolution over a Russian veto.
Thus, in one of Irony's most astounding achievements ever, does Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin today revel amid the spoils of victory with just about the whole world on his side, including the Pope (still without a single military division) and leaders such as Brazil's President Dilma Rousseff, who took her cue from Putin when she recently knocked more than the air out of Obama with a smashing body blow to his solar plexus, cancelling her state visit to the White House over the NSA's IRS-ing of Brazilians in high government and corporate offices.
Yes, one of Irony's most astounding achievements, for as he reflects upon the victory, Vlad's mind turns not to Pushkin, Dostoyevsky, or Tolstoy, nor Machiavelli, nor Marx, but the Bible, which warns, "Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall."
© A.J. DiCintio
September 22, 2013
No matter how profound the issues or scandals, the current administration's MO has been to avoid substance in favor of the corrupt politics of spin and ignore, ignore and spin, a strategy that, history teaches, often succeeds in gaining the confidence of a majority of the people. . . until the piper shows up.
However, as polls reveal, no amount of duplicitous White House propaganda or disregard for pursuing truth can prevent the public from perceiving this reality:
With respect to his influence regarding Syria and the rest of the world an effete, dithering, anchorless, contradictory Barack Obama has been knocked out cold by Vladimir Putin, a reality made all the more devastating by the fact the entire fight was viewed not by a cable-television-sized Pay Per View crowd but an audience that counts a huge percentage of the planet's seven billion souls.
Yes, there's no disputing what Russia's president did, with images of a pummeled, then prostrate, and now punch-drunk Obama continuing to be posted, telecast, emailed, face-booked, smart-phoned, and printed from Afghanistan to Zimbabwe.
All that remains, therefore, is the crucially important task of providing an imagined but thoroughly real history of the major events that led up to Vladimir "KGB" Putin's stunning but not surprising clocking of Barack "Community Organizer" Obama.
To begin at the very beginning, specifically, at the Russian's conception, it's essential to say that Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin was clearly blessed with genetic material any aspiring fighter would die for.
However, despite Mark Twain's perceptive observation that being "well born" is "worth as much in a man as it is in a horse," it's also true that especially with respect to humans, DNA isn't everything.
Because of that fact, Honesty requires mentioning that without having spent 16 years in the hard-nosed, amoral environment of the main Soviet spy agency, Vlad never would have become the fighter who eventually launched and landed the Punch Seen and Heard Round the World.
With the facts on the table regarding how a fortuitous combination of nature and nurture permitted the Clintonesquely power and money hungry Putin to make a reality of the political life he had imagined for himself, it's possible to move on to how Vlad reacted when he first learned of the little known, purported Wunderkind who received his little political education from the Chicago Machine, Karl Marx, and Saul Alinsky, labored for a little time as a community organizer (a concept that required aides to do a little explaining), and authored two little books.
Dismissing all but one of those resume entries as dilettantish irrelevancies, Vladimir responded first with this fiery exclamation:
"Real books exhibit courage and genius, or, at the very least, brave, creative intellect! These are nothing more than little diaries celebrating a little egotistical self!"
Then, having calmed down enormously, he exclaimed again, albeit with a tone that was at once weighty and light:
"My, my, it makes me hope more than a little this. . .this. . .Obama becomes. . .what do they call it?. . . ah, yes, PO-TOOSE!"
By July of '08, Vlad's wish was well on its way to being fulfilled as indisputable political neophyte Barack Obama, who had not even been nominated as the Democratic candidate, traveled to Berlin, where, playing the role of self-anointed messiah, he amazingly presumed to lecture not just Europe but the entire world about foreign policy.
Meanwhile, watching the speech on a television whose high definitional technology revealed every ridiculous nuance of Obama's pompous posturing, Vladimir smiled a sardonic smile as he perceived not a wise head of state hardened by all of Reality's adamantine truths but a person capable of leading only a children's crusade, an arrogant greenhorn of an amateur who "struts and frets his hour upon the stage" full of sound, full of fury, and, most of all, full of himself.
Then, leaning back in his chair ever more confidant and comfortable with his smile, Vlad thought of the frightening nature of realpolitik; of Russia, China, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Iraq, and Iran; of Al-Qaeda, the Taliban, Hamas, Hezbollah, and radical Islam; of Jong-il, Ahmadinejad, al-Assad, and, of course, himself.
Moments later, his sardonic smile metamorphosed into one filled with hope that in November his dream for change in the American presidency would come true.
As it turned out, Putin's sweet dream didn't just materialize, it exploded in a luscious, almost embarrassing deliciousness; for fewer than six months after assuming the Oval Office, President Barack Obama embarked on an apology tour highlighted by as many half truth mea culpas and obsequiously groveling bows as he could possibly fit in.
For an encore, he followed up with a trip to Cairo, where, once again indulging his compulsion for delivering megalomaniacal speeches, he sought to democratize and modernize (via an "Arab Spring") cultures of the kind that prompted a Dutch general in Afghanistan to comment, "It's like walking through the Old Testament."
Regarding the former, Vladimir roared at the irony that the "intellectual" Obama knows nothing of Chekhov and therefore failed to realize that in response to his ostensibly rational enumeration of America's sins, enormous numbers of the world's population, especially those who despise America most, would react not with appreciation and understanding but violent emotions that madly conjure up visions of the United States as an incorrigible, insatiably greedy political and economic pig worthy only of being slaughtered.
With respect to the latter, the KGB hardened Putin opted for the irony of British understatement to utter "Arab Spring, indeed," a sardonic smile appearing once again as he realized he and his American counterpart were destined to come to blows, most likely over an event in the Middle East.
Never having harbored a single illusion regarding the oft-proved fecklessness of the international community, in March of '13 Vlad found himself shouting "Destined, indeed!" when Obama served up another delicious sweet with his thought-less, plan-less "red line" blather.
In fact, Russia's president became so certain of the coming fight's inevitability and his winning it in utterly dramatic fashion that when the president's secretary of state naively understated the number and influence of Islamist terrorists in Syria, he seized upon the fierce urgency of now to pull off a double mocking, explicitly calling out Barack Obama's most important diplomat as a "liar."
(Note that in reality Putin's use of "liar" actually doubled the double; for it sent both Bill and Hillary Clinton into ferocious Freudian fits of temple throbbing, epithet spewing, spit spraying anger).
As has been true for ages, one good mocking always produces another. So it was that the British Parliament sided with Vladimir, followed by Congress (in truth, the American people), leaving a stunned Obama no longer strutting but stumbling all over the world stage with only France's Socialist Hollande as his lone, perfectly oxymoronic and yet perfectly appropriate partner.
Immediately perceiving that the stumbling Obama bumbled unprotected on his left and right, Putin launched his astounding punch with a plan (which surely came to him as he meditated shirtless one afternoon) requiring Syria to promise to turn over its chemical weapons to an institution known only for its hypocrisy, bureaucratic corruption, and flaccid Security Council, which can pass no resolution over a Russian veto.
Thus, in one of Irony's most astounding achievements ever, does Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin today revel amid the spoils of victory with just about the whole world on his side, including the Pope (still without a single military division) and leaders such as Brazil's President Dilma Rousseff, who took her cue from Putin when she recently knocked more than the air out of Obama with a smashing body blow to his solar plexus, cancelling her state visit to the White House over the NSA's IRS-ing of Brazilians in high government and corporate offices.
Yes, one of Irony's most astounding achievements, for as he reflects upon the victory, Vlad's mind turns not to Pushkin, Dostoyevsky, or Tolstoy, nor Machiavelli, nor Marx, but the Bible, which warns, "Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall."
© A.J. DiCintio
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