“Is that what’s real to you, Barack — making a mess for somebody else to clean up?” — Dreams from My Father
I just finished the self-portrait of a psychopath, Obama’s Dreams from My Father. It’s well-written — not by him, obviously — but self-consciously confessional. Read it and you’ll feel like you’re being manipulated on each of its 450 pages, for no obvious purpose. But isn’t that the distinguishing mark of the psychopath, the determination to deceive others simply for the pleasure of making them seem stupid and himself superior?
Maybe the idea was to give BHO some street cred with the brothers in Chicago when it first came out in 1995, but I can’t imagine any sane person seeing this emotionless, self-absorbed bastard son of an African bigamist as a potential presidential candidate.
Of course, the elections of Kennedy, Carter, and Clinton still mystify me, so what do I know?