If It Were a Drinking Game, We'd Be Dead

It drives me absolutely nuts. Every time Chimpie says, "What the American people gotta understand..." or, "What you gotta understand is..." I need a drink, because the idea that this half-wit could explain anything to any thinking person is (a)absurd on its face, (b) impossible since likely he doesn't understand what he purports to explain, (c) exemplary as to how completely disconnected from any constructive criticism he is, and (d) proof that although his daddy bought him an MBA from Harvard, he doesn't know shit about management.

This last point really galls me, because the one big no-no in negotiation or in mediation is that you never, ever claim to be the authority on anything. A leader never, ever demeans his audience by telling them how ignorant they are, assuming only he can explain away their deficit of knowledge. And finally, the idiotic grin he takes on, the way he leans forward, and the thrusting of his hands out in front all belie the self-proclaimed expertise--he is clearly a man out of his depth, desperately (and badly) pretending to be someone he doesn't even know he can never be, and buoyed only by a lifelong safety net of daddy's friends and his own toadying lackeys and powermad fascists like Karl Rove who keep him from smashing badly on the rocks of his own stupendously baseless arrogance.

Even worse, of course, is having to listen to the crack-tongueing acolytes in the press trying to make sense out of his yawping. They should know better, but of course as whores always understand, you don't make the john feel bad about himself, even if he doesn't know where to put his dick.