You know when you’re talking about a Medal of Honor winner and the highest ranked Asian elected official, there might be a few other topics to talk about then your own vacation memories, but well, Obama loves his vacations. He doesn’t love much else, but he sure loves his vacations. And talking about himself.
And Obama combined his two great passions, vacations and talking about himself, in true classy style at Senator Inouye’s funeral.
“Now, even though my mother and grandparents took great pride that they had voted for him, I confess that I wasn’t paying much attention to the United States Senate at the age of four or five or six. It wasn’t until I was 11 years old that I recall even learning what a U.S. senator was, or it registering, at least.”
Death must be a truly horrifying phenomenon for Obama. Other people at least take comfort in knowing that their country and their family will go on, but for Obama there is nothing else. Everything only exists in relation to him in a completely solipsistic universe.
Senator Inouye only exists in relation to Obama.
Before Obama knew about him, there was no such thing, and Obama can only talk about Senator Inouye in terms of the point in time at which he came into being by way of Obama learning about him.
So we flew over the ocean, and with my mother and my grandmother and my sister, who at the time was two, we traveled around the country. It was a big trip. We went to Seattle, and we went to Disneyland — which was most important. We traveled to Kansas where my grandmother’s family was from, and went to Chicago, and went to Yellowstone. And we took Greyhound buses most of the time, and we rented cars, and we would stay at local motels or Howard Johnson’s. And if there was a pool at one of these motels, even if it was just tiny, I would be very excited. And the ice machine was exciting — and the vending machine, I was really excited about that.
But this is at a time when you didn’t have 600 stations and 24 hours’ worth of cartoons. And so at night, if the TV was on, it was what your parents decided to watch. And my mother that summer would turn on the TV every night during this vacation and watch the Watergate hearings. And I can’t say that I understood everything that was being discussed, but I knew the issues were important. I knew they spoke to some basic way about who we were and who we might be as Americans.
And so, slowly, during the course of this trip, which lasted about a month, some of this seeped into my head. And the person who fascinated me most was this man of Japanese descent with one arm, speaking in this courtly baritone, full of dignity and grace. And maybe he captivated my attention because my mom explained that this was our senator and that he was upholding what our government was all about. Maybe it was a boyhood fascination with the story of how he had lost his arm in a war. But I think it was more than that.
Now, here I was, a young boy with a white mom, a black father, raised in Indonesia and Hawaii. And I was beginning to sense how fitting into the world might not be as simple as it might seem. And so to see this man, this senator, this powerful, accomplished person who wasn’t out of central casting when it came to what you’d think a senator might look like at the time, and the way he commanded the respect of an entire nation I think it hinted to me what might be possible in my own life.
Not only does Obama manage to hijack an American hero’s funeral with his usual nonsense about his multiracial identity crisis, he’s pathologically unable to speak about him in relation to any other view but his own.
The Senator, like the rest of humanity, only exists for the enlightenment and entertainment of Barack Hussein Obama. His life story is a footnote in Obama’s own.