Vincent
07-12-2012, 08:24 AM
A son of the author of lies.
NARCISSIST IN CHIEF
The real reason Obama constantly lies
Exclusive: David Kupelian uncovers what's really behind BHO's astonishing dishonesty
“Mr. President, on what occasion do you lie?”
That was Barbara Walters during her painfully fawning interview with Barack and Michelle Obama last Dec. 23.
Walters got the interview rolling with “I’m looking at you. You’re holding hands. That’s very sweet. How many years married?”
“Twenty, next year,” said Obama. “And [you] still hold hands?” rejoined the adoring Walters. “Absolutely,” replied Obama.
Then, against this backdrop of irresistible holiday warmth and good cheer, came the big question:
“Mr. President,” Walters inquired delicately, “on what occasion do you lie?”
“Usually, the only time I lie,” responded Obama, “is very personal interactions with family members, [when] you say, ‘You look great,’ and they don’t. ‘Wonderful dress …’ Uh, not so much.”
Chimed Michelle: “Things where the truth would hurt other people.”
“Right,” echoed Obama, “the things where truth would hurt other people. Not too many big things. I said during the campaign that I’ll always tell you what I think, and I will, always tell you where I stand. I’m not perfect, but you’ll know what I believe.”
There you have it, folks. Welcome to The Matrix – where the elite media specialize in creating virtual reality scenes like this one, which are so pleasant and seem so real … except that they bear virtually no resemblance to reality.
For there, seated in the midst of this elegant, Norman Rockwell-esque Christmas setting, was Barack Obama, the perpetually churning and discontented radical, taking a needed break from his relentless campaign to “fundamentally transform” – that means destroy – the American way of free enterprise and free people. Barack Obama, the man who lies as easily as breathing – a serial deceiver regarding his birth, his childhood, his education, his influences and associations, his religion, his accomplishments, his policies, his true beliefs and his plans for America’s future. Barack Obama, the man whose entire presidency has been a seamless fabric of deception and duplicity, tells Barbara Walters and the American people that the only time he lies is to protect a family member from hurt feelings by occasionally offering reassurance that an unflattering dress is “wonderful.”
Wow.
Read more: http://www.wnd.com/2012/07/heres-why-obama-lies/
The referenced “Pop”… http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/18/us...oems.html?_r=2 … this written as a child by the occupant of the White House…
POP
Sitting in his seat, a seat broad and broken
In, sprinkled with ashes
Pop switches channels, takes another
Shot of Seagrams, neat, and asks
What to do with me, a green young man
Who fails to consider the
Flim and flam of the world, since
Things have been easy for me;
I stare hard at his face, a stare
That deflects off his brow;
I’m sure he’s unaware of his
Dark, watery eyes, that
Glance in different directions,
And his slow, unwelcome twitches,
Fail to pass.
I listen, nod,
Listen, open, till I cling to his pale,
Beige T-shirt, yelling,
Yelling in his ears, that hang
With heavy lobes, but he’s still telling
His joke, so I ask why
He’s so unhappy, to which he replies...
But I don’t care anymore, cause
He took too damn long, and from
Under my seat, I pull out the
Mirror I’ve been saving; I’m laughing,
Laughing loud, the blood rushing from his face
To mine, as he grows small,
A spot in my brain, something
That may be squeezed out, like a
Watermelon seed between
Two fingers.
Pop takes another shot, neat,
Points out the same amber
Stain on his shorts that I’ve got on mine, and
Makes me smell his smell, coming
From me; he switches channels, recites an old poem
He wrote before his mother died,
Stands, shouts, and asks
For a hug, as I shrink, my
Arms barely reaching around
His thick, oily neck, and his broad back; ’cause
I see my face, framed within
Pop’s black-framed glasses
And know he’s laughing too.
NARCISSIST IN CHIEF
The real reason Obama constantly lies
Exclusive: David Kupelian uncovers what's really behind BHO's astonishing dishonesty
“Mr. President, on what occasion do you lie?”
That was Barbara Walters during her painfully fawning interview with Barack and Michelle Obama last Dec. 23.
Walters got the interview rolling with “I’m looking at you. You’re holding hands. That’s very sweet. How many years married?”
“Twenty, next year,” said Obama. “And [you] still hold hands?” rejoined the adoring Walters. “Absolutely,” replied Obama.
Then, against this backdrop of irresistible holiday warmth and good cheer, came the big question:
“Mr. President,” Walters inquired delicately, “on what occasion do you lie?”
“Usually, the only time I lie,” responded Obama, “is very personal interactions with family members, [when] you say, ‘You look great,’ and they don’t. ‘Wonderful dress …’ Uh, not so much.”
Chimed Michelle: “Things where the truth would hurt other people.”
“Right,” echoed Obama, “the things where truth would hurt other people. Not too many big things. I said during the campaign that I’ll always tell you what I think, and I will, always tell you where I stand. I’m not perfect, but you’ll know what I believe.”
There you have it, folks. Welcome to The Matrix – where the elite media specialize in creating virtual reality scenes like this one, which are so pleasant and seem so real … except that they bear virtually no resemblance to reality.
For there, seated in the midst of this elegant, Norman Rockwell-esque Christmas setting, was Barack Obama, the perpetually churning and discontented radical, taking a needed break from his relentless campaign to “fundamentally transform” – that means destroy – the American way of free enterprise and free people. Barack Obama, the man who lies as easily as breathing – a serial deceiver regarding his birth, his childhood, his education, his influences and associations, his religion, his accomplishments, his policies, his true beliefs and his plans for America’s future. Barack Obama, the man whose entire presidency has been a seamless fabric of deception and duplicity, tells Barbara Walters and the American people that the only time he lies is to protect a family member from hurt feelings by occasionally offering reassurance that an unflattering dress is “wonderful.”
Wow.
Read more: http://www.wnd.com/2012/07/heres-why-obama-lies/
The referenced “Pop”… http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/18/us...oems.html?_r=2 … this written as a child by the occupant of the White House…
POP
Sitting in his seat, a seat broad and broken
In, sprinkled with ashes
Pop switches channels, takes another
Shot of Seagrams, neat, and asks
What to do with me, a green young man
Who fails to consider the
Flim and flam of the world, since
Things have been easy for me;
I stare hard at his face, a stare
That deflects off his brow;
I’m sure he’s unaware of his
Dark, watery eyes, that
Glance in different directions,
And his slow, unwelcome twitches,
Fail to pass.
I listen, nod,
Listen, open, till I cling to his pale,
Beige T-shirt, yelling,
Yelling in his ears, that hang
With heavy lobes, but he’s still telling
His joke, so I ask why
He’s so unhappy, to which he replies...
But I don’t care anymore, cause
He took too damn long, and from
Under my seat, I pull out the
Mirror I’ve been saving; I’m laughing,
Laughing loud, the blood rushing from his face
To mine, as he grows small,
A spot in my brain, something
That may be squeezed out, like a
Watermelon seed between
Two fingers.
Pop takes another shot, neat,
Points out the same amber
Stain on his shorts that I’ve got on mine, and
Makes me smell his smell, coming
From me; he switches channels, recites an old poem
He wrote before his mother died,
Stands, shouts, and asks
For a hug, as I shrink, my
Arms barely reaching around
His thick, oily neck, and his broad back; ’cause
I see my face, framed within
Pop’s black-framed glasses
And know he’s laughing too.