One Of Those Moods

A Facebook friend alerts me to this charming analysis of Barack Obama's youthful literary efforts. It seemed to set off some sort of red alert in my brain, no telling why, so here's my rantful reply:

First the girlfriend, but it wasn't juicy enough and didn't stick. Now, a couple of old grafs on T.S. Eliot. I used to be in the news business, and I've done some scraping of the barrel myself, but this is just hilarious. I couldn't help putting myself in the place of the poor hapless reporter having to fill some white space. Just a few quick calls, give me 15 inches, honey. Feeding the beast, it's called. Of course the winners in all this are the poetry profs, who probably haven't seen themselves quoted outside an obscure academic journal for, oh, like never. I bet they each saved a clip. And poor Bill Kristol, he wasn't fast enough on his feet there. A huge opportunity to bash Obama for signs of early socialism and what happens, some lit prof from Podunk U. scores the goal. Jeebus. You can't make this stuff up. Thanks, Jean. Six more months of this kind of thing. Bring 'er on! (I'm also thinking Wag the Dog and Primary Colors, the satire just writes itself.)