President Obama has quite a bit in common with Alexander.
Judith Viorst’s not-so-fictional story describes a little boy’s day from hell in which everything goes wrong and everything’s his fault.
I’m betting roughly half the readers of Alexander and The Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day think Alexander’s a remarkably cute, charming boy, just like their little Willy.
I suspect many among “the other half” find him the cute, funny, bratty result of a permissive household.
Both perspectives find the symbolic fiction worth reading to their respective children. As always, millions don’t or can’t connect the dots within.
Alexander’s day is Obama’s term. Both of them.
A reflection of childhood priorities, Alexander’s room is as messy as Obama’s policies, and possibly his mind.
Both leave junk everywhere. Nothing ever gets cleaned up and the whole house smells careless. Buried beneath increasingly nasty neglected piles, things are decaying or dead. Good mothers and earnest managers are shouted down, booted out of the morass.
Alexander’s a kid, a spoiled kid, lucky enough to have both parents and trains that work. Normal little boys have messy rooms. Spoiled brats are left to to think it’s always OK.
Through no fault of his own, Barack Obama’s spoiled too, a brat in man’s clothing. Early on, millions of Americans perceived this. Unfooled, they were twice outvoted by today’s liberal minds, which viewed America’s 44th president as a “leader of men,” careful, capable of organizing his thoughts and cleaning up no-good policies.
After the fictional Alexander squirts out way too much toothpaste, he moves on to spill a bottle of ink all over his father’s office papers. But wait, there’s more!
Take your pick of President Obama’s equivalent spills, starting with the offer even Democrats are at last learning to refuse, ObamaCare.
Alexander can’t help being a clumsy, unguided kid, anymore than the real-life Obama could help his abject, slap-dash parenting. Parents help boys learn to get it right, or they leave them to think everything they do is OK by them and the world.
At the end of the day, Alexander becomes so frustrated with his parade of self-induced mishaps, he screams about escaping to Australia.
Unlike Alexander, Obama can easily head off to play golf, leaving those who can afford it to move to Australia.
Unlike Alexander’s, Obama’s “spills” are not accidents. They’re intentional policies with deliberately destructive goals. He’s not sorry for anything except getting caught.
Aptly named, ObamaCare’s a clear and present purposeful catastrophe, more historical proof of the slap-dash failures of its foolish “parents,” Mr and Mrs Liberalism.
Since the spectacularly tall heap of history hasn’t yet instructed more Americans, who knows whether and for how long this latest in-your-face will move them to connect the dots.
A clever fiction can be a glorious thing. Non-fiction stupidity can be as lethal as the wrong reading of the right book.
For all those Americans who keep complaining about the subject of “politics,” think again: “politics” doesn’t just start at conception, it starts before.