The Summer of Obama

We’ve all endured the slobbering love affair the media has for Barack Obama the past several years, but for sheer hackery, nothing can quite possibly top this piece of sycophantic drivel. The author, Stepen Marche, is a Canadian with a history of having his articles pulled, and it’s a wonder this stupefying prose is still on the Esquire website.

Before the policy choices have to be weighed and the hard decisions have to be made, can we just take a month or two to contemplate him the way we might contemplate a painting by Vermeer or a guitar lick by the early-seventies Rolling Stones or a Peyton Manning pass or any other astounding, ecstatic human achievement? Because twenty years from now, we’re going to look back on this time as a glorious idyll in American politics, with a confident, intelligent, fascinating president riding the surge of his prodigious talents from triumph to triumph. Whatever happens this fall or next, the summer of 2011 is the summer of Obama.

So when 2031 rolls around we’ll all be nostalgic for the wonder summer of Obama? Ah yes, we’ll look back wistfully on the joyous days of skyrocketing unemployment, high gas prices, staggering debt and Obama’s threatening to cut off the Social Security checks of seniors. Of course, by 2031 we’ll have long been bankrupt if any of Obama’s policies continue to move forward and Social Security will be a distant memory, that lockbox having been pilfered many years earlier.

Due to the specific nature of his political calculus, possibly not a single person in the United States — not even Obama himself — agrees with all of his policies. But even if you disagree with him, even if you hate him, even if you are his enemy, at this point you must admire him.

Um, no. How could I possibly admire someone seemingly intent on the destruction of the American economy? What is there to admire in a petulant man-child who holds our economy hostage while selfishly looking out for No. 1? What is there to admire in a man who cannot tell the truth, who’s more interested in golf and vacations than actually working, and whose primary job is raising funds for his own re-election? Is it admirable to stonewall an investigation into why his Justice Department gave weapons to Mexican drug cartels?

We can finally see who he is, we can finally understand the reality: In 2011, it is possible to be a levelheaded, warmhearted, cold-blooded killer who can crack a joke and write a book for his daughters. It is possible to be many things at once. And even more miraculous, it is possible for that man to be the president of the United States. Barack Obama is developing into what Hegel called a “world-historical soul,” an embodiment of the spirit of the times. He is what we hope we can be.

So we all hope to be warm-hearted yet cold-blooded killers?

OK, I swear, this isn’t an Onion parody. Even they couldn’t be this funny.

We love Obama — even those who claim to despise him — because deep in our hearts and all over our lives, we’re the same way — both inside and outside our jobs, our races, our cities, our countries, ourselves. With great artists, often the most irritating feature of their work is the source of their talent. Obama’s gift is the same as his curse: He’s somehow managed to be like the rest of us, only infinitely more so.

So those who detest Obama really do love him? Thanks for clearing that up. It’s been tough suppressing my love for Obama all these years. Now I must fess up. He’s me, just infinitely more so.

Although, granted, I’ve got a much better golf game.