Posted on 07/18/2011 1:10:46 PM PDT by the invisib1e hand
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FIG. 1: The Anti-Obama, Gingrich packs a few narratives of his own: family-values cheater, man of the people with half-a-mil credit at Tiffany's, a great speaker who makes unconscionable gaffes. Before the fall brings us down, before the election season begins in earnest with all its nastiness and vulgarity, before the next batch of stupid scandals and gaffes, before Sarah Palin tries to convert her movie into reality and Joe Biden resumes his imitation of an embarrassing uncle and Newt and Callista Gingrich [FIG.1] creep us all out, can we just enjoy Obama for a moment? Before the policy choices have to be weighed and the hard decisions have to be made, can we just take a month or two to contemplate him the way we might contemplate a painting by Vermeer or a guitar lick by the early-seventies Rolling Stones or a Peyton Manning pass or any other astounding, ecstatic human achievement? Because twenty years from now, we're going to look back on this time as a glorious idyll in American politics, with a confident, intelligent, fascinating president riding the surge of his prodigious talents from triumph to triumph. Whatever happens this fall or next, the summer of 2011 is the summer of Obama.
FIG. 2: Left, the original master of mass-media performance art. Except his performance was one-note. And Bill Clinton, who said about Obama in 2008: "A few years ago this guy would have been getting us coffee." Now he's bringing the legacy policies that eluded you, Bill. Due to the specific nature of his political calculus, possibly not a single person in the United States not even Obama himself agrees with all of his policies. But even if you disagree with him, even if you hate him, even if you are his enemy, at this point you must admire him. The turning point came that glorious week in the spring when, in the space of a few days, he released his long-form birth certificate, humiliated Donald Trump at the White House Correspondents' Dinner, and assassinated Osama bin Laden. The effortlessness of that political triptych three linked masterpieces demonstrating his total command over intellectual argument, low comedy, and the spectacle of political violence was so overwhelmingly impressive that it made political geniuses of the recent past like Reagan and Clinton [FIG.2] seem ham-fisted. Formed in the fire of other people's wars, other people's financial crises, Obama stepped out of Bush's shadow that week, almost three years after taking over the presidency.
FIG. 3: The original American, Whitman: "In [Obama] I see myself, none more and not one a barleycorn less. And the good or bad I say of myself I say of [Obama]." But even that string of successes cannot fully explain the immensity of his appeal right now. Reagan was able to call upon the classic American mythology of frontiersmen and astronauts and movie stars; Obama has accessed a much wider narrative matrix: He's mixed and matched Jay-Z with geek with Hawaiian with Kansan with product of Middle America with product of a broken home with local Chicago churchgoer with internationally renowned memoirist with assassin. "I am large, I contain multitudes," Walt Whitman [FIG.3] wrote, and Obama lives that lyrical prophecy. Christopher Booker's 2004 book The Seven Basic Plots, a wide-ranging study from the Epic of Gilgamesh on and a surprisingly convincing explanation for why we crave narrative, reduced all stories to a few plots, each with its own kind of hero. Amazingly, Barack Obama fulfills the role of hero in each of these ancient story forms.
While Obama's story is ancient, it is also utterly contemporary, perfectly of the moment. His gift and it is a gift that makes him emblematic is that he inhabits all these roles without being limited by them. He has managed, miraculously, to remain something of an outsider while being the president of the United States of America, the most inside man in the world. He's African-American, but he's not African-American. He's from Chicago, but he's from Hawaii. One month he's bailing out the banks, the next he's keeping Gitmo open. He pushes health-care reform through with an unimpeachable heave of will then extends the tax cuts. He walks smiling through the newly opened White House garden on his way to announce renewed efforts at oil drilling in the Gulf of Mexico. Meanwhile, his "balanced" approach to the economy has led to a slower recovery than other industrialized nations and the war in Libya has been half-assed at best, which is exactly what war cannot be. For two years, he seemed disingenuous and defensive, pushed into roles that his predecessors had scripted, alternately playing savior then monster. But no more. We can finally see who he is, we can finally understand the reality: In 2011, it is possible to be a levelheaded, warmhearted, cold-blooded killer who can crack a joke and write a book for his daughters. It is possible to be many things at once. And even more miraculous, it is possible for that man to be the president of the United States. Barack Obama is developing into what Hegel called a "world-historical soul," an embodiment of the spirit of the times. He is what we hope we can be.
We love Obama even those who claim to despise him because deep in our hearts and all over our lives, we're the same way both inside and outside our jobs, our races, our cities, our countries, ourselves. With great artists, often the most irritating feature of their work is the source of their talent. Obama's gift is the same as his curse: He's somehow managed to be like the rest of us, only infinitely more so.
The Seven Stories of Obama
According to literary scholar Christopher Booker, every narrative in the world, from Gilgamesh to War and Peace to Water for Elephants, can be reduced to one of only seven master plots. Amazingly, the story of Obama contains every narrative.
Plot 1: Quest
Take the one issue that impacts every American, and that famously eluded Clinton, and bet your first term on it. Passing health care was a "big fking deal," to quote our vice-president.
Plot 2: Comedy
Message to Trump: If the president makes fun of you, laugh.
Plot 3: Rags to Riches
Born into nothing, the guy made $1.7 million on his book sales last year. He's money.
Plot 4: Tragedy
The man's grandmother who raised him dies days before he is elected president. You couldn't make up a more moving story twist.
Plot 5: Killing the Monster
Bush couldn't kill Osama. It took the black, liberal peacenik from Chicago who favors death panels to do it. Or something like that.
Plot 6: Voyage and Return
Here he is in Ireland, reconnecting with his lost lineage. The man claims he wants to put the apostrophe back in O'bama.
Plot 7: Rebirth
Remember that night in New Hampshire when the campaign hit a brick wall? It's also the night he told us, "Yes We Can." And he did.
Pulp writer Jim Thompson said it better: "There are thirty-two ways to tell a story, and I've used them all, but there is really only one plot: Things are not as they seem."
HorseHooey.
Barack Obama is a lot of things, but one of things he is NOT is “all of us”.
And he DEFINITELY isn’t ME.
To the author, I say: “Speak for yourself, you pathetic liberal mouthpiece.”
What a steaming pantload.
This is true.. How many republicans you know that would return a federal government check?..
We may have NOW a federal government that reflects “the people”..
Hes only like us if the playing field is leveled well downward. In other words hes OK b/c we’re not. Typical liberal ‘logic’.
Stevie Boy sounds like he was custom built for kneepads:
Stephen Marche (born 1976) is a Canadian novelist and writer for magazines and newspapers. His first novel, Raymond and Hannah, was published in 2005, and his second Shining at the Bottom of the Sea, in 2007. Both received widespread critical acclaim, in Canada and the United States.[1]
He currently writes a monthly column for Esquire, “A Thousand Words about our Culture,” which in 2011 was a finalist of the American Society of Magazine Editors award for columns and commentary, and a weekly column for the National Post, “Close Reading.”[2] In 2005, he received a doctorate in early modern English drama from the University of Toronto.[3]
Marche has strongly criticized the blasphemy law in Ireland, arguing that it violates contemporary norms about freedom of speech.[4] He is currently working on a book about Shakespeare’s impact on world history.[5]
On October 16, 2010, Marche wrote for the Globe and Mail a column which was criticized by some as “gutter” journalism and which was subsequently pulled from the paper’s website. The column was described by some as a “personal assault” on a political candidate during an election and as representative of “left wing” obsessiveness with weight.[6][7] However, others have argued that the column is not a straightforward “personal assault” on an individual, but rather an interpretation of obesity as a cultural symbol.[8]
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Since when was I involved in racketeering?
I just don't think esquire's circulation is large enough to matter; I'm sure the people that get it do so because it says "im cool" and it contains gratuitous images of scantily clad sluts.
You have GOT to be kidding!
the only mug more sickening than Helen Thomas (so far).
Could this guy’s face be planted more firmly up Zero’s behind? Dude, take a step back. Then you’ll be able to see what you’re sniffing.
The more I read this, the madder I got. It even got me pissed off at Walt Whitman, referring to him as “the original American”.
“The Original American” was someone like Washington, Adams or even Nathaniel Green, not some beatnik liberal like Walt Whitman.
Liberalism is a mental illness. This opinion piece proves it.
Uh, nope.
In fact, as I have previously stated, I would not perpendicularly traverse a linear travelway in order to micturate upon him were I to ascertain that he was rapidly combining with oxygen.
That is hardly the attitude of someone who 'loves' Obama, sir, so you'd better think again.
We are all inept, ignorant blunderers? I thought it was only about 35% of the population (trying to be optimistic).
Man. What is this dumbass smoking?
More HOPEY CHANGE to get the mushheads to vote to re-elect Jimmy Carter one more time.
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