Most Fascinating After-Midnight Post

Self reclining on living room couch, listening to Gracie’s (abominable) snoring. Now and then a car will pass outside. It’s lonely at this time of night, but self is beset by insomnia, for the third night in a row.

So, hoping that The New York Times (of Wednesday, 30 April) will provide desired soporific effect, self starts flipping through the News section, and stops at the editorial page. Here there is a fascinating Maureen Dowd article about Obama, which self will now proceed to quote:

Barack Obama has spent his life, and campaign, trying not to be the Angry Black Man.

Early on, he wrote in “Dreams From My Father,” he discerned the benefits of playing against the 60s stereotype of black militancy.

“I learned to slip back and forth between my white and black worlds,” he said. “One of those tricks I had learned: People were satisfied so long as you were courteous and smiled and made no sudden moves. They were more than satisfied; they were relieved — such a pleasant surprise to find a well-mannered young black man who didn’t seem angry all the time.”

Obama and his aides often brag about his Zenlike serenity. “I’ve learned that I have what I believe is the right temperament for the presidency, which is I don’t get too high when I’m high and I don’t get too low when I’m low,” he told Chris Wallace on “Fox News Sunday.”

What self thinks Ms. Dowd means is that Obama has excelled at the art of the perfectly calibrated response. This is a skill which self believes takes an inordinate amount of patience and watchfulness. It must be exhausting to be Obama.

Obama, why don’t you cut loose, just once? Do a “Howard Dean” roar! (Self could never understand why Dean’s “Yeah!” following an oratory about winning state by state should have sunk him. Self admits to getting pretty excited when she saw the clip. She thought: Go, Howard, go! You kick ass! Then his fortunes rapidly skidded downhill. And self knew, once and for all, that she herself would never be in tune — in terms of response, that is — to America at large) Or, better still, why don’t you learn to play the saxophone? Self thinks it is a pretty sexy instrument, and playing it could win you many many (female) votes.

Instead, if one were to take Ms. Dowd’s word for it, you have turned into the “Sort of Angry Black Man” who is “reluctantly spurred into action by The Really Angry Black Man.”

Ha ha ha ha ha!

Self never thought she would find herself agreeing with Ms. Dowd. No, never, not in a million years.

Stay tuned, dear blog readers, stay tuned.

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