A short story by Ron.
Washington D.C., April 30, 2015
Barack Hussein Obama committed suicide the left-side bunker in the rough by the dogleg on #13 at the Andrews Air Force Base South Course after triple bogeying the 12th hole. His drive sliced into the trap, and after badly mis-hitting a 6-iron from the sand, Mr. Obama snapped the club over his knee and, in a fit of pique, fell forward on it, impaling himself on the broken hozzle where the clubhead had snapped off.
As he lay dying, he grabbed the service pistol of an unnamed Secret Service agent who was bending to help him and fatally shot Vice President Joe Biden, who had been annoying him by beating him badly and ribbing him mercilessly up to that point in the round. Upon hearing the news, House Speaker John Boehner said, “Uh, today, uh . . . we are, uh . . gathered, uh, here, uh, sadly to, uh, mourn the . . , uh, untimely, uh, passing of, uh, a , , , uh, unique . . . uh, and, uh . . . historic, uh . . . uh, . . . . president.”
This act effectively ended the illegitimate Obama “Hope & Change” regime and signals the beginning of a period of economic recovery and racial healing in the nation. Eric Holder, already relieved of his duties as Attorney General, was seen converting his assets to Kruggerands and boarding a yacht for Barbados immediately upon hearing the news.
Valerie Jarrett, chief political advisor to the Alinsky-style Kenyan-in-Chief, immediately dressed herself in a blue hijab and sought refuge at the Iranian embassy in Ottowa. Harry Reid has mysteriously disappeared and is thought to be seeking political asylum in Venezuela, and Nancy Pelosi has reportedly gotten herself to a nunnery in Dublin, Ireland. Al Sharpton suddenly discovered pressing business desperately in need of his attention in Port au Prince.
Until reported by a well-informed Washington Post editor, few noticed the significance of the date, the same one that seventy years ago another megalomaniac killed himself in a bunker in the city he had brought to ruins – Berlin.
Obamunism, a cult-like mass delusion in the charismatic style of Jim Jones or Oprah Winfrey, is entirely dependent upon a strange admixture of white-liberal guilt, black ethnic loyalty, and Latino dependency on Anglo stupidity. Its power, now as passé as discotheques, is evaporating like the morning mist over a Georgia swamp exposed to sunlight by a bootlegger’s still explosion fire.
The power of Obamunism over America’s more than 40 million African-American citizens was akin to a tonton macoute’s vudu control over zombies, urging gangs of young blacks to randomly attack white people, interrupt traffic on streets and highways, and loot and burn businesses for reasons which they never fully understood.
Today, however, that black magic spell has been lifted like the repeal of the universally despised 18th Amendment. Already bio- and script- and screen-writers are busily crafting works designed to expose the myths and lies and devious practices of America’s first half-black president.
The previous paragraph demonstrates that this is fiction since all the writers would be creating stories and films glorifying this fraud, like the upcoming movie about how Obungler and Moochelle met, a movie that will, like all black porn movies e.g. The Butler, be mostly fiction. – GOC
Obama, or Soetoro, or Onyango, or Dingle Barry, or whatever he’s called was not a leader, not a savior, not a peacemaker but an empty suit, a sock puppet for Soros and the DNC, a closet Muslim masquerading as a Christian in the finest Qur’anic tradition of taqiyya to accelerate the decline and fall of the most charitable and freedom-loving nation ever seen on earth.
Writers of history will compete for publishing supremacy on both extremes: those to whom he remains (for ethnic reasons primarily) a great president who was frustrated by obstructionist conservatives (mostly Fox News) . . . and those to whom he was a thoroughly inept, ineligible, incompetent, and indifferent poseur.
When the echoes of “Burn this bitch down!” and “Hands Up! Don’t Shoot!” subside to a whimper and disappear in the wind, the hero worship that sprung up around him will vanish the same as the adoration of that other megalomaniac who killed himself in a bunker seventy years ago. In the end, it will be the latter group of writers who win the debate.