The Obama Lingerie Bowl: The Sheryl Crow Factor


By: Brooks A. Mick

It is a hoot to tour the far-let web sites such as Huffington Post. The degree of sycophantic sucking up to Barack Obama is truly staggering.

When he’s hypocritical, reneging on his promise to accept public campaign financing, he’s cheered. When he promises a new tone and bipartisanship but refuses to persuade Nancy Pelosi to allow Republicans to contribute ideas and debate honestly, they encourage further attacks on Republicans. When he decries fiscal irresponsibility and promises to bring change to Washington but then signs a Pork-Payback Plan adding 1.3 trillion to the deficit within less than 2 weeks past inauguration, they howl with glee.

It reminds me of the teenage girls and middle-aged women at Elvis concerts in Las Vegas.

Which brings me to Peggy Noonan and Kathleen Parker, two previously Republican and semi-conservative women who deserted their prior boyfriend, George W. Bush, and were last seen swooning over Obama and throwing their panties at him on stage.

Peggy has thrown the cool label at him a couple times, saying a speech was “so calm and cool.” She even referred to him as “Cool Hand Luke” in a Wall Street Journal column. She, a fine writer, a major contributor to many Ronald Reagan speeches, is swayed by his purported writing skills. She accepts uncritically that he actually wrote the memoirs for which he is credited despite there being no preceding or subsequent evidences of literary ability. (There has been supposition, supported by considerable circumstantial evidence, that they were ghostwritten.)

Parker revealed that she wept on watching Obama declared the winner of the presidential election. It might have been, to be sure, tears of joy at the prospect that race no longer mattered, as she explained.

Or was it all just an exhibition of pure emotional worship by fans toward an idol? When pressed, it appears neither of these ladies can explain anything substantive about Obama’s policies and beliefs that inspire such adoration. Indeed, Peggy Noonan’s writing points out that Obama is nearly a blank slate, a tabula rasa, a carte blanche–or perhaps carte noir. An enigma.

Perhaps it is that he is the quintessential slick-talking dude to whom women give their belief freely. Perhaps it is the Sheryl Crow Factor. Lyrics from her song “Strong Enough” repeat the refrain:

Lie to me
I promise I’ll believe
Lie to me
But please don’t leave

I would rephrase it as “spout substanceless platitudes–I promise I’ll believe.”

And the fans continue to throw panties. How long will Obama’s celerity last?

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