Not to burden you with too much information, but this did happen after we went to bed last night. Sometimes we actually take all of 2.025 minutes to talk before I succumb to my muscle relaxant, pain med-induced coma and Cecil dives into the sleep of the just. He probably has the worst end of the deal. He puts my brace on to get me up, dresses me, walks the dogs, gets the meals, does the laundry, helps me shower, drives me to church (well, he goes, too,) does the grocery shopping, and still manages to keep up with his blog. Since October 13th, when my car morphed into a crazed being and dumped me into a ditch, then careened across the road and became airborne, diving nose first into an embankment, fracturing my T9 vertebra, I’ve been doing a pretty convincing imitation of a beached whale.
Back to last night. Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about our president’s non-reaction to the Fort Hood massacre by an Islamic Jihadist. From the nauseating “don’t jump to conclusions” to his copious use of the word “tragedy” he’s pretty much distanced himself from the outrage of patriots like you and me. Then I realized, heck, he’s been widening the gap by miles at a time ever since his swearing in ceremony. The only time he even attempts to connect with the American people is when he’s campaigning for one of his causes. And, fortunately for him, there are enough on the left to give him the feedback he needs to feed his self-centered ego. So I said, “Honey, has it occurred to you that our president doesn’t have any rapport with the people?” Or words to the effect; it was late. After several seconds my wide-awake spouse answered, “Yeah.” Validation. I felt much better.
But it’s not just a disconnect; it goes deeper than that. It’s more like an ineffable, untouchable, almighty god which has placed itself so far above its subjects that to try to communicate on any level would mean certain death. While countless critics, both right and left, have rhapsodized about his eloquent and riveting speeches—the ones with the teleprompter—I have never seen it. I see, and hear, choppy, stilted, cold words, delivered in a calculated, dispassionate and overly-efficient style. Maybe it’s my one (1) speech class that I took in college a hundred years ago that has left me so critical. But, I don’t see any warmth there. No heart, no soul, no—humanity. Okay, so that’s another post for another day, when I’ve got my tinfoil hat on.
I guess it was the Fort Hood massacre (Yes, it was a massacre) that drove it home. Remember President Bush on 9/11? Of course we do. The president everybody loved to hate had a way of bringing us together and causing us, for a time, to actually entertain a rational thought or two. He did it on 9/11; he did it when he visited the troops in Iraq; he did it briefly during Katrina, until somebody began yelling, “He didn’t do it soon enough!” Demonized by the mainstream media, excoriated by the liberal hate mongers, George W. Bush, with all of his faults, managed to present a dignified, composed and unifying demeanor even when the world was falling apart all around him. He didn’t give “shout outs” to someone in the audience when thirteen citizens lay dead; he didn’t tell us not to leap to conclusions after the carnage of 9/11. He didn’t bow to the Saudi Arabian king.
The danger is far more subtle than meets the eye. It isn’t just an arrogant, narcissistic lack of empathy; it is a cold, uncaring detachment, which diminishes not only the office of the President, but also the sovereignty of our nation. The lack of recognition of we the people—on any level—indicates the direction he and his comrades are going, dragging us along and shredding our freedoms along the way.