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When Will the Lambs Stop Screaming?

President Obama is certainly no stranger to throwing family, friends, spiritual advisers and even the occasional terrorist buddy under the bus to further his career, but now to save his job he is willing to take it even further.  He has officially gone serial.

Over the weekend he addressed the Congressional Black Caucus (CBC).  The “black mascot of Wall Street oligarchs” crassly dropped his Ivy League crisp style of annunciation adopting instead what some called a black dialect.  He literally told the CBC and black America to shut up, get off their lazy behind (according to Obama they are loafing around still in their PJ’s), and march lockstep to the Obama drum.

“Take off your bedroom slippers. Put on your marching shoes,” he said, his voice rising as applause and cheers mounted. “Shake it off. Stop complainin’. Stop grumblin’. Stop cryin’. We are going to press on. We have work to do.”

The rising applause came as some surprise; it seems such an address would merit only respectful if not disdainful silence at best.  After three years of palling around with the likes of Jeffrey Immelt and hitting the links at Martha’s Vineyard one would think the CBC, so-called advocates of the most unemployed demographic of the Obama recessions would give this years-late-job-speech less than a cheerful reception.  An earlier statement from CBC Chairman Emanuel Cleaver explains though why this President gets a pass.

“If Bill Clinton (a white man) had been in the White House and had failed to address this problem, we probably would be marching on the White House.”  Clarification in parentheses mine.

The metaphor came to me while running on my lunch break today and watching a silent CC version of The Silence of the Lambs at the gym:  The white tower President, so very far removed from the constituency he’s already thrown under the bus, returns to figuratively strip the skin (pigmentation) from the corpse of this vestigial body (CBC) to use as a cover for his latest campaign tactic that he refers to as the Jobs Bill.  And they didn’t run.  They just stood there… and cheered.

Hannibal: They were slaughtering the spring lambs?

Clarice Starling: And they were screaming.

Hannibal: And you ran away?

Clarice Starling: No. First I tried to free them. I… I opened the gate to their pen, but they wouldn’t run. They just stood there, confused. They wouldn’t run.

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