So I watched Obama's infomercial and forgive me if, unlike Chris Mathews, I didn't soak my Depends.
As I watched, all I could be was... confused.
Obama produced what can only be described as bizarro-propaganda: A dour documentary designed to undermine an Eastern Bloc country circa 1974. Ten minutes into the thing, I was expecting a bunch of fat babushkas in headscarves fighting over the last loaf of stale bread. Out of fear, I actually boiled and ate a neighbor's dog.
This was a view of our country seen, grimly, from the outside looking in: A place where everyone is sick, poor or sickly poor. I call it "Hugo porn" — the kind of stuff that gives Chavez a chubby.
It's as if the most successful and selfless country in the history of the world never existed. Instead, we have East Germany without the lederhosen or the sausage.
But I guess, in order to sell himself, Barack has to sell the rest of the country short.
When it was over, however, I felt like I always do after ingesting a hard sell: Convinced I was being sold something I didn't need. To me, Obama's gleaming valentine to himself succeeded in only reminding me of the Soloflex in the garage: Once shiny and new, it's now covered in my soiled shorts.
And if you disagree with me, then you sir are worse than Hitler.