I’m rather quaint about the American Presidency. I regard the Office is worthy of respect ’til it hurts.
When do we get to say the President is lying? Not misspeaking. Not misunderstood. Not tired… but L-Y-I-N-G?
Because damned if I think we haven’t crossed that line a while ago. Quite a while ago. I mean… What’s coming out of the mouth of the Commander-in-Chief is no mere quantification of “what is, is” or splitting hairs, pubic or otherwise, over some pedestrian misdeed of the philandering or fiscal variety.
We’re hearing full-on, full-monty, bold-faced, easily fact-checked & rebutted, all-out, shameless, jaw-droppingly audacious LIES.
I love my Republican form of government. I love that we don’t have murals of our leaders all over our buildings. We take great pains to separate the man from the Office and revere the Office to a fault – like I said, until it hurts. That Oval provides a kind of force-field of good will around whomever occupies it; buys them the benefit of several dozen doubts… but this guy. This guy’s killin’ me. I mean… it’s no joke no mo’: How do we know Obama’s lying? His lips are moving. I’m as serious as a heart-attack here.
And I hate saying it. I hate saying my President is a liar. L-I-A-R. Like… WAY more than usual. In a WHOLE NEW CLASS of lying Presidents. The kind of lying that leads one to believe… nothing anymore. Ever. Again. Leaving even the most devoted acolyte no choice but to… vote his lying ass out of Office in the vain hope that the next President will just be an ordinary liar.
That I can live with.
Give me lies about semen-stained blue dresses & expensive china again… Those were good days, huh?
We just didn’t know it, then.