More than a week ago, President Obama was here in Missouri, in Kansas City. He gave a great speech to a packed house at the old Uptown Theater. The ending, where the President said he did not “believe in a cynical America” but “in an optimistic America that is making progress,” was typical Obama. After all the difficult years in office, after all the foreign and domestic crises, after ten thousand shivs of disrespect from resentful Republicans have been buried in his back, he still bleeds hope. He still resists the temptation of cynicism. He still believes in the country’s future.
But it was a lighter moment during the speech in KC that received most of the attention:
So some of the things we’re doing without Congress are making a difference, but we could do so much more if Congress would just come on and help out a little bit. (Applause.) Just come on. Come on and help out a little bit. Stop bein’ mad all the time. (Applause.) Stop just hatin’ all the time. Come on. (Applause.) Let’s get some work done together. (Applause.)
They did pass this workforce training act, and it was bipartisan. There were Republicans and Democrats, and everybody was all pleased. They came, we had a bill signing, and they were all in their suits. I said, doesn’t this feel good? (Laughter.) We’re doing something. It’s like, useful. Nobody is shouting at each other. (Laughter.) It was really nice. I said, let’s do this again. Let’s do it more often. (Applause.)
I know they’re not that happy that I’m President, but that’s okay. (Laughter.) Come on. I’ve only got a couple of years left. Come on, let’s get some work done. Then you can be mad at the next President.
He then makes fun of Republicans for deciding to sue him “for doing my job.” Clearly, he was having a good time, even though he used the playful bit to make a more serious point:
I want Congress to do its job and make life a little better for the Americans who sent them there in the first place.
That Kansas City speech has now caused two different conservative pundits to reach into their bag of stupid and pull out a column. First it was Peggy Noonan, who used to write eloquent speeches for Ronald Reagan. These days her eloquence has either been murdered or died of natural causes. In its place we have the following racially-infected pap she wrote about President Obama making our “divisions deeper” by doing what he did in Kansas City:
He shouldn’t be out there dropping his g’s, slouching around a podium, complaining about his ill treatment, describing his opponents with disdain: “Stop just hatin’ all the time.”
Now, you can search that Kansas City speech from now until Osama bin Laden comes back from his midnight swim and you won’t find the slightest bit of “disdain” for his opponents. What you will find is a speech full of justifiable criticism of Republicans in Congress, which most on the right, reflecting their own feelings for Obama, necessarily interpret as disdain. All of the disdain is and always has been on the other side, as any honest observer of the Obama presidency can tell you.
Conservatives don’t like this man. They never have. They never will. They have utterly—utterly—despised him from the beginning. He can’t even have a little fun with them without right-wing pundits impregnating it with some kind of negative historical significance. Talk about your cynicism. Obama “dropping his g’s” and “slouching around” means, apparently, that we have an illiterate street thug in the White’s House purposely pissing off the real owners.
Then comes Rich Lowry, editor of the National Review and an opinion columnist for Politico. His most recent column was titled, “The Callow President.” Before we go on, I will supply you with a handy definition of “callow” from Merriam-Webster:
—used to describe a young person who does not have much experience and does not know how to behave the way adults behave
From that I think you can see where little Richie is going: back to that Kansas City speech. Lowry begins his column this way:
“Stop just hatin’ all the time.” If you haven’t been following the news, you might not know whether this bon mot was uttered by a character on the ABC Family show “Pretty Little Liars” or by the president of the United States.
Of course, it was the leader of the free world at a Kansas City rally last week, imploring congressional Republicans to start cooperating with him. The line struck a characteristically — and tellingly — juvenile and plaintive note.
Lowry next tells us how “certainly true” it is that Obama is a lefty who won’t admit to it, then he writes something that he no doubt thought was a brilliant insight into the mind of our first black president:
the deepest truth about Obama is that there is no depth. He’s smart without being wise. He’s glib without being eloquent. He’s a celebrity without being interesting. He’s callow.
In one column, Lowry disavows all that conservatives have told us about Obama for five or six years: that he is cleverly crafting a plot to undermine and then destroy the country as we know it; that he wants to transform America into Amerika or into some kind of socialist paradise. Now we find out that he isn’t capable of such a thing, that there is no depth to him. He is simply a boy in a man’s job. “The notion that Obama might be a grand historical figure was always an illusion,” says the same guy who, after Sarah Palin’s lackluster debate with Joe Biden in 2008, gushed like a masturbation-ready teenager:
I’m sure I’m not the only male in America who, when Palin dropped her first wink, sat up a little straighter on the couch and said, “Hey, I think she just winked at me.” And her smile. By the end, when she clearly knew she was doing well, it was so sparkling it was almost mesmerizing. It sent little starbursts through the screen and ricocheting around the living rooms of America.
Whether he was mesmerized by the sparkling smile on the face of a quasi-vacuous Sarah Palin, whether he was hit in the head and knocked unconscious by little ricocheting starbursts, it is clear that the writer of that disturbing prose, one Rich Lowry, should never, never, never, never, never pretend he knows anything about grand historical figures, even if he, and Peggy Noonan, know a great deal about illusions.