On Friday millions of Americans bum rushed the mall to get their hands on a limited supply of some crap, but in this year’s melee, no one died. According to the AOTL Almanac, when no one dies on Black Friday it means another six months of unemployment above 8.5%.
By all news accounts, Friday’s show of shopaholism was encouraging and I could not agree more. The amount of shopping activity indicates that those people with jobs are shopping enough to make up for the unemployed. It really is the spirit of the season.
The uptick in 2010 Black Friday sales was truly unexpected considering we’ve had economy so shitty the country was anger-y. Man, were they angry. They were so angry that three weeks ago they voted the Democrats out of the House of Representatives. Whatever the Republicans were promising it sure did work, and quick! The new Congress doesn’t even start until January.
Well, whatever made everyone so angry, it’s gone. It’s over. Everyone is happy and shopping. So the next time I feel angry I’ll vote for a teabagger and head to the mall.
God bless Americans.
There must be some fable of Aesop where perhaps a chicken or turkey criticizes a wolf for not being a good wolf. The chicken tells the wolf that it should be strutting around a barnyard eating corn and laying eggs and crowing when the sun comes up. Then the wolf eats the chicken and says something Aesopian like “Aha! You do your best at being what you are, and I’ll do my best at being what I am. The moral would be something along the lines of don’t tell someone what to do if you have no experience in doing what it is that they do.
By my last count, there have only been 44
I defer to Obama because I consistently believe he is exceptional. When he is seemingly silent while Death Panel type lies abound I think to myself it must be for a reason. He must be choosing his battles. He knows this is chess. It ain’t checkers. He’s lining up his men to play the bishop’s fannypack or the double rook do-si-do. Right? Right? Barack? This is the calm before the ass-kicking, right?
Thinking about it too much does not help. One begins to overanalyze and ponder Obama’s motivation. Just like Bill Clinton’s fatal flaw was asking women out for a White House quickie, Obama’s could be his relentless cool. WHO KNOWS!
Chickens like me have to understand that the man definitely has a plan, in a manner of speaking. Realistically, he must have eight or nine. He is sharp enough that he probably knows what he wants his legacy to be, but unlike an unnamed predecessor, he doesn’t go around talking about it. Maybe he knows he’ll be the Jackie Robinson of presidential politics. He’ll be remembered as the one who played superior while the ones that tried to stop him at every turn will be scorned. When people look back at how his presidency coincided with the use of the filibuster as standard legislative procedure and how people took to the streets to protest his tax hikes after he had just signed tax cuts into law, they will understand just what a fucked opposition he had to deal with.
So for all those chickens yet to be hatched, they will get a fuller story after all the tell-all books have been written and the penitent Mitch McConnells who upon realizing they were going to die soon came clean on how they behaved almost like comic book villains in order to get back at Obama for ever being elected.
So if I know this to be the case, why do I Monday morning quarterback the Obamster? Because I want the satisfaction of seeing some comeuppance for the Fox slander job. And that is my agenda. Obviously it is not his. I guess that is why he’s president and not me.
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