Superman and Shrinking Man

       As it stands now, President Obama’s re-election campaign slogan could be “If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.”
       Obama’s latest gift to the Republicans and the big corporations that control the GOP was making the decision on his own not to enforce stricter air quality laws.
       No solution to pollution.
       The EPA will now stand for End Public Advocacy.
       Let them breathe smog.
       It could be that Obama is using some berserko form of reverse psychology on voters by giving them a preview of what to expect if they decide to elect a Mitt or a Rick, and in the process keep him on for four more years. If that’s the strategy, it ain’t gonna work. It’s way too cerebral. Keeping America Stupid looks to be on an irreversable trend.
       Obama has spent the better part of this year caving in to what his opponents want. It all started a few months back when he went public with his “real” birth certificate. If anything, that shut Donald Trump up. But the prez caved to the birthers, as if he had to prove to those tiny brains that they were looney tunes.
       Speaking of Yosemite Sam, on the campaign trail over the weekend, a 9-year-old kid asked GOP presidential hopeful Texas Gov. Rick “I feel the need to secede” Perry to name his favorite superhero. Naturally, Perry said Superman.
       (Right now, if President Obama was a character from a sci-fi movie, it would have to be Robert Scott Carey, “The Incredible Shrinking Man.”)
       Perry won’t run his campaign as Superman, but rather as John Wayne. Cahill, U.S. Marshal. Of the town we call America. 
       Obama is still the tin horn from the big city of Chicago, who went West only to be cast as the owner of the General Store. But no one’s buying at the store ‘cos they’re orderin’ from the fan-dangled catalog that advertises Sunday-go-to-meetin’ clothes you can get across the pond from Paree.
       So the General Store is about to de-fault.
       Marshal Perry is the real deal, struttin’ and straight shootin’ from the hip. And he’s gonna tar and feather land baron Mitt Romney and run him outta town in that surry with the fringe on top he rides into town on.
       Perry is out to prove that he’s the cowboy Ronald Reagan could only play in the movies.
       Plus, he can out God-fearin’ anybody. He called on fellow Texans to pray for rain to end a miserable drought in the state.
       OK, so it didn’t work. So you can’t add Rainmaker Rick to his resume. He may have to reconsider puttin’ Jesus on the ticket should he lasso the GOP nomination.
       Perry may have to distinguish himself from the most recent Texas rootin’ tootin’ president. A recent poll shows most Americans still blame the policies of George W. Bush for the economic mess that still plagues the nation.
       W. The Yale Cowboy. He went back East for his book learnin.’
       He was a prospector of fool’s gold —- a transplanted Texan who tried to prove his machismo by invadin’ the wrong country.
       Shoot, even the tin horn’s intel agents got Osama bin Laden. All W.’s  got was Cat Stevens.
       [Sidebar: There’s no truth to the rumor that former President George H. W. Bush’s other two sons, Jeb and Neil, are suing the producers of the comedy now in theaters “Our Idiot Brother” claiming they had that title first for their biography of W.]
       Finally, and maybe most relevant, Perry is no recovering alcoholic like W.
       Heck, Perry’s a “tea” toadler.


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