Democrats Meet Godzilla
One of the premier cult film shorts, beloved by sophomores at least in 1969, is a ninety second pen-and-black ink drawn animation “Bambi Meets Godzilla”. Blissfully unawares in idyllic innocence, Bambi meets a swift, and untimely, erasure from Godzilla’s bigfoot.
The first fifty seconds are devoted to the ingenuous grazing Bambi, obscured by scrolling credits for the film’s creator Marv Newland. “Written by Marv Newland; Screenplay by Marv Newland; Produced by Marv Newland; and Marv Newland produced by Mr and Mrs. Newland”.
Bambi’s abrupt demise, by the vanity of Marv Newland’s adolescent wreckage of all that is pure and unmolested, takes all of three seconds as Godzilla’s foot suddenly fills the screen. “The end” lingers for nearly twenty seconds or so. Then it is all over. Morte.
And so also go the Democrats, brutally squished like a bug by the Godzilla of political mutants, Barack Obama, and his misbegotten two-term presidency.
Within 100 days of the Trump presidency, nothing noteworthy will remain from Obama’s socio-political ninety-second mischance. Even a screenplay ushering in the first black president, meriting an historic copyright, will be a forgettable tragedy, and farce, without a hint of heroism.
Barack Obama -- amateurish, self-absorbed, having bliss-like denial of reality -- has been preoccupied with self-congratulatory accolades for merely showing up at the right time. Unlike Bambi, Barack Obama is no innocent. A cultivated radical, Obama created a mask of moderation, promising hope to the long-suffering inner-city dispossessed, and deliverance for guilt scarred uptown and suburban white liberals. He betrayed both, and anyone else who trusted him.
Obama’s bigfoot thoroughly dismantled the Democratic Party, no trivial achievement. In his wake is unsalvageable debris -- no leaders, perpetual juvenilia exhorted by septuagenarians, having no purpose, scorned and rejected. Imagine that in eight years, Obama perfected the turnover of 2/3rds of the state legislatures to the Republicans. Almost enough to repeal whatever progressive-leaning constitutional amendment might be noxious at the moment.
Hundreds of thousands of white privilege liberals actively campaigned for Obama in white upper middle class suburbs, while donating fortunes to his elections. Such species are abundant in eastern Massachusetts, West 72nd St in Manhattan, and coastal California.
Electing the first black president was white liberals’ pathway to salvation, yet their legacy contains their own complicity in resurgent racial tension, and the intolerance of ideas that don’t align with their progressive utopia. Gender politics, alongside the malignant neglect of national security and sovereignty were considered virtuous, insulated from rebuke by media, and celebrity co-sponsors, willing to lie, and manipulate a wary public, who didn’t buy any of it.
These same Democrats cannot fathom the resurgence of gritty individual liberty, nor the rejection of their patronage. These patrons for environmental and social justice boondoggles wonder why wretched living conditions, crime and poverty, for millions of Americans won’t just vanish. And why shouldn’t mommypoppins.com, transgender coloring books, and Hollywood Hits be amongst everybody’s Facebook likes?
The Democrats’ unrequited romance with Barack Obama left behind an inconsequential pink chalk-scrawled love note, expunged like so much cheap graffiti swiftly rinsed away with simple soap and a damp sponge.
Godzilla of modern politics -- Written by Barack Obama; Screenplay by Barack Obama; Produced by Barack Obama; Barack Obama by Marxist/communist mother and anti-colonial socialist father -- was created to expunge a generation or more of Democrat party enemies.
Instead Obama exterminated his own party. Only dead space remains. Morte. In the words of philosopher Antony Flew, channeling Ludwig Wittgenstein: “When we are dead nothing is experienced, not even emptiness… the world in death does not change but ceases.”