Toto

The unsung Hero of The Wizard of Oz is Dorothy's little dog Toto, the canine equivalent of the little boy who pointed out that "The Emperor has no clothes."

When Dorothy, the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodsmen, and the Cowardly Lion quaked and trembled in fear and awe before the giant, disembodied head that was the Great and Powerful Oz, Toto wandered away from the paralyzed, huddled mass and sniff-sniffed his way curiously to the curtained booth, whereupon he drew the curtain aside and revealed...a humbug.

Toto died in 1944, but everyone knows that all dogs go to heaven, and her angel (Toto was really a she originally named Terry, and just picture her with little wings and a halo) appears to have been quite busy over the years pulling other curtains aside:

In 1997 the film Wag the Dog was released. It was about a president of the United States who manufactured a war in the Balkans to distract from a sex scandal.

Less than a month after the movie was released, the Lewinsky scandal erupted and would lead to Impeachment. By 1999 Clinton was attacking countries to shake off the stigma, and the massive bombing of the Balkans was one of them.

In that situation, the curtain was pulled aside for everyone to see the humbuggery going on before the Oz-like head of war appeared, but Clinton shamelessly soldiered on, anyway not wanting to validate the nexus that a backpedalling could be interpreted as acknowledging.

"It was just a coincidence," it was smirked.

Nonsense. The timing and subject were too uncanny.

It was Toto.

How about freak spring blizzards and cold spells occurring on the very day and at the same locations that Global Warming marches were scheduled for, and the mounting of a giant, smiling snowman in March that broke the record for size?

That was Toto.

How about the anchored body of Laci Peterson floating to the surface at the very time her husband Scott was being investigated for her disappearance?

That was Toto, too, digging around for buried bones.

When words are spoken that aren't meant for public consumption--but are everyone's business--Toto makes sure a microphone's around to pick them up.

Toto was there when Obama's preacher--the right reverend Jeremiah Wright--fell into a paroxysm of anti-American rage.

And Toto was there to make sure Obama was recorded saying that gun-owning people of faith become "clinging" toters and thumpers because of economic "bitterness" (suggesting that it was a reactionary phenomenon to bad political fiscal policies carried out by those in power, which, for the last two decades, went by the names of Bush, Clinton, and Bush, a pattern which should not be repeated, as implied).

Although Barack liked to talk about the attitudes of "typical white people," his comment was typical of the condescending attitude leftists have toward red state values of "Gods & Guns" held in every state to one degree or another. And because he made the comment in a San Franiscan gathering of like-minded left-wing elitists when he thought he wasn't being recorded (or wasn't worried about it being leaked), it was but another revelation of the real Obama behind the polished package that telegraphs an inclusive, tolerant, non-judgmental, non-hateful, "We Are The World" type of new politician (who is hardly new under the sun).

In short, he's a humbug.

Billary--of all people-- ran with it, suggesting that Obama's populist posturing is indeed humbuggery, that he's really "out of touch" with the God-worshipping, NRA-supporting, war-mongering, and alcoholic sensibilities of Joe & Jane Six-Pack of Pennsylvania.

To provide a contrast in character, the grinning Hillary--like a little keg of dynamite in her power-pantsuit-- then bar-hopped, slammed a shot, and assured everyone that she liked her guns REALLY big: She would "obliterate" Iran if they so much as laid a finger on poor, defenseless Israel (even though Israel could turn Iran into a sea of glass on her own, thank you very much).

Welcome to the Vast, Right-Wing Conspiracy!

Oh how I wish Toto was there when Hillary went off on her own explicit, foul-mouthed tirades, as credibly reported by many but which are dismissed as hearsay by the Clinton-loving true-believers (who are fools or like-minded scoundrels, each and every one).

He was there, however, when Bill--thinking that the mic was turned off--muttered this:

"You don't think I can take any shit from anybody for that, do you?"

He had been accused ("the shit" he was referring to) of intentionally exploiting contrasts in skin tone by referencing Jesse Jackson's caucus victory in South Carolina in the 1988 primaries as the standard to measure Obama's own victory in South Carolina, i.e. Obama was "just another black candidate" (like Jackson), so his victory there insignificant.

He has been defensively protesting the accusations ever since (too much, methinks), claiming that his point was that it was insignificant vis-a-vis the big picture of the full primary season and the general election as a matter of numbers.

However, he chose Jackson as the exemplar of that point when sundry other candidates won the South Carolina caucus but failed to go the distance, the difference being that all the others were white.

Anyway, the point here is Clinton's choice of words. He could've asked "You don't think I'd take any grief over that, do you?" or "You don't think I'll take any slack on that, do you?" or just "I'm not going to take that," but instead he blurted: "I can't take that shit."

It just goes to show that, behind the scenes, Bill is as characteristically foul-mouthed as Hillary is, and is not the eloquent intellectual he is billed as and likes everyone to think he is.

Anyway, Toto provided that. :)

As if on cue.

In the commentary section of the recent post "Scatology," I bantered with guest Berty:

"The poem 'Scatology' is, in fact (well, not really, but...) a metaphorical statement on an increasingly immature, potty-mouthed culture which has obviously been arrested at the infantile anal stage of development (as diagrammed by Freud), and shrewdly uses the bathroom setting and subject of defecation as a weapon of fire to fight that fire."

I then addressed Nanc's husband's discerning of it being, quite simply, "A very sh*tty poem":

"No argument there, but I'm pleased to point out that after devoting an entire post to a poem about defecation, the word "shit" finally appeared after 14 comments (initiated by me, and censored by you), which proves not only how unneccessary vulgarity is to communicate anything except vulgarity for vulgarity's sake (except when used in a humorous context as I used it with Kelly), but also the erudition, good character, and simple decency of the contributing guests that come here, and I'm happy about that.

...and is (among other things) what separates the right wing blogs from the left-wing ones."

Arf. ;)