The Gallic character can, at its best, be described as mercurial. We should expect no better of a nation that that in its various incarnations, has allowed its arrogance to blind it to its own inadequacies. Still when I saw the headline proclaiming “France Gets Its Obama Moment“, I allowed myself to entertain the image of Charles de Gaulle, pants around his ankles, getting good and hard, the CHANGE! that the fiity-tooers so willingly voted to inflict upon us. Alas, it was not to be. Instead, it was yet another story packed chock-full of more media tongue-bathing goodness of Lord Zero and his family which left me longing for the media of yesteryear…you know, the old-fashioned hardbitten types who would cast a jaded eye on the ethereal gauze of adoration that that surrounds the Pretender-In-Chief™ and his family, and see right through it. These were the people who, unlike today’s crop of journalists, would not be able to eagerly report such sickening tripe as
Media scrutiny of the family was intense. The French are confirmed fans of the Obamas, whose politics and elegant style conform to their ideal vision of the United States. The couple makes frequent appearances on the covers of French magazines. Michelle Obama, whose wardrobe choices are analyzed, gets an A-plus for sartorial glamor, natural poise and sheer intelligence.
I’m not sure when a cursory examination of a purveyor of The Politics of Lowered Expectations™ and the shallow examination of outward appearances was magically transmuted into intense media scrutiny, but for a press corps that seems only interested in actually making a careful examination of a candidate when they are determined to make that examination render the candidate unfit for consideration, I guess it passes as a diligent application of the journalistic craft. As for the rest, I’m not sure I would want to live in a United States that meets France’s collective “ideal vision” for it.
This, however, was not the worst of it. Not content in uttering slobbering propaganda, the press has doubled down, moving into the realm of wholesale fiction.
But the common touch the first American couple represents, so antithetical to the traditional pomp and circumstance of French heads of state, sets them apart.
What occaisioned this comical portrayal?
When dining out Saturday night at a no-star bistro, La Fontaine de Mars, the presidential party was served water, Coke and table wine to accompany foie gras, lamb and steak with shallots, and paid for meals “like any client,” said owner Jacques Boudon. “It’s just what they wanted.”
“And I think they were very happy since they stayed three-quarters of an hour after dining,” he said by telephone.
Sure, because Jacques Toutleshommes always dines in this man’s bistro with an extensive security presence.
Of course, the proximity to Barry the Blessed infected this man with the same leg-tingling disorder that has afflicted other notable journalistic giants such as Chris Matthews and Evan Thomas.
“I saw God before me,” he said, “because I saw this smile that a million people have seen around the world. I saw her (Michelle) radiant. … It’s idiotic, but it’s like that.”
Elsewhere, the ghost of Jean d’ Arc was seen to materialize in front of a television playing one of Obama’s dramatic readings, and excitedly wailing “It is he! It was his voice I heard all those centuries ago!” (translated from the original french)
So what has precipitated this outpouring of adoration from a nation that typically reserves its praise and friendly nature for Americans when we saving them from others who would plunder them and pick the very flesh from the bones of their country? No one has made an attempt to find out, but I suspect that it is the willingness of this man to treat much of this nation, and indeed some of our staunchest allies with the same contempt that the French so often do. Waiving the bloody shirt of racism in order to campaign for a chance to usher in a “post-racial” America, which is anything but; consistently positing moral equivalency under the guise of “healing”, and seeking to destroy capitalism in order to save it; while at the same time slighting the Queen of England by ignoring centuries of protocol, then ignoring her contribution to a great conflict during one of its most visible commemorations; and then, finally, standing in on the dais in nations that have no love for us, and while representing us, having the nerve to apologize for actions that deserve no apology, especially to the peoples to whom they were made. Of course the French love him; he acts like one of them.