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 Pathological narcissism President Barack Obama: Professional Hothouse
Flower

 *By* *Kelly O'Connell*  Sunday, February 21, 2010

As regards defining personality traits, Barack Obama’s chief attribute will
undoubtedly go down as pathological narcissism. But it also doesn’t help his
cause that he has a glass chin the size of Beijing’s Bird’s Nest Stadium.
Barack simply can’t take criticism in any constructive fashion. But why is
that? Fundamentally, despite his Ivy League pedigree, it seems Obama
sprouted to maturity without any of the normal struggles, ordeals, obstacles
or setbacks against progress that normally aid in the development of
character, depth, maturity and wisdom.

Like the greenhouse-raised petunia, upon entering a real-world environment,
with all the inclement weather, scorching sun and other unpredictable
elements—the light and heat went straight to his head and he degenerated
from a prosperous seedling to a stunted and shocked vegetative state. And
now he’s even developed drooping popularity. Poor Barack!!

Now, consider: Before assuming the US presidency, Obama was protected like
the elusive unicorn; or a fragrant holy cow; or King Arthur’s magic albino
stag; or some other insufferably coddled sacred beast. For example, when
running for his first Illinois state senate election, all Barack’s opponents
were conveniently driven off the ballot, by individual lawsuits, one-by-one.
And when it finally came to his US Senate race, his opponent Jack Ryan
watched as his legally sealed divorce records, with their damaging personal
information, were exposed like an anonymous tip dialed into the IRS on April
14th. Ryan, too, dropped out. Even for a neophyte, it’s a bit hard to lose a
race with only one candidate running! (apologies to Alan Keyes)

So, instead of being buffeted by life’s vagaries, and experiencing all the
setbacks associated with coming up tough in a hard world, Barack was
kowtowed to like the next black-velvet Elvis. And how sad for all the rest
of us who have to absorb his endless pontificating lectures, stern
Stalin-esque rebukes, bloviated teleprompting speeches, and holier-than-Mao
homilies! And yet, the same Obama who believes himself a bona fide World
Spirit didn’t even have the moxies to plot a “Plan B”, just in case his
initial imperial presidential plans were booted to the curb. Talk about a
rank amateur!

It doesn’t help, of course, when you are the lex animata, ie the living
lawgiver, of your cause. Obama is nothing less than the organic embodiment
of his movement’s message, and everything he says is trenchant and terribly
important. He’s like a postmodern Shakespeare holding court at, say—the
local union hall or welfare office. This was wonderful, until screwups
surfaced that even the Lame-Brained Media had to report on it. His advisers
should have realized offering up Barack as the next paper mache Moses was
not a good career move. There is nowhere to head but down from the
mountaintop experience, while toting the Styrofoam “change mandate” tablets.

But the problem is much deeper than this. In essence, Obama’s struggle is
he’s been shielded, protected, and treated like a prodigy for so long, he’s
never had the opportunity to develop like a normal person. For example, how
many reporters and networks chose to look the other way, whistling – when
all of BO’s ultra-leftist, socialist, and communist pals came to light? Who
else could have a bmf (best male friend) who actually bombed US Government
buildings, but never apologized or repented, yet still have the matter
treated like a 2nd grade food-fight at Camp Lenin?!!

Actually, a “prodigy” in ancient Rome was not what we think of today – a
wonderful young personality or incipient genius. Instead, their version was
known as prodigium, meaning a “portent / monster, unnatural thing.” A freak
whose sudden appearance meant the gods were furious. Doesn’t this intriguing
contrast splendidly cover the gamut of the the current Obama v. USA
conundrum? Acclaimed a young miracle worker of a politician who would
overtake the modern world like a Caesar Augustus on a crack binge; instead,
he turns out to be a terrifying monstrosity – a technology addicted,
talking-point belching, socialist abomination—in a red spandex suit, candy
apply cape, and Karl Marx mask with lettered back, reading “C-H-A-N-G-E!”

In Rome, the birth of something grotesque like a two-headed baby would send
the hapless residents skittering into a frightened panic, wringing their
hands over the portentous and menacing divine warning. But here, we’re stuck
with Obama and Joe Biden sharing one-head, half a brain, and a smoking
teleprompter while employing Cat-in-the-Hat styled alchemy, trying to coax
Hope into Change. If they can only translate Das Kapital into the US Code,
and therefore produce Department of Motor Vehicle level healthcare for all
of us, they will retire happy. Not an easy task, friends!
He’s the original Robo-President; just add speaking skills, a big, cheesy
smile, and Communist Manifesto talking points

Barack is therefore like a test-tube conceived, laboratory-born running back
who’s never faced a single tackler before being drafted #1 into the NFL. So
his strength and speed have not once been challenged on a real field – let
alone his brains, common sense, character or heart. In fact, one might
consider BO the Todd Marinovich of world leaders. He’s the original
Robo-President; just add speaking skills, a big cheesy smile and Communist
Manifesto talking points.

And speaking of cheesy, with his prominent ears, he might resemble a giant
socialist rodent, come to gnaw the parched trunk of capitalism down to its
taproot. Or, in remembering our classical forebears, the Roman poet Horace
may have had a Barack-type in mind when he wrote, “The hills churned and
produced a leftist rat.” (ok, ok…technically, the translation is: “The
mountains will be in labour; an absurd mouse will be born.” Ars Poetica.
139.)

It wouldn’t be easy growing up like a junior league Buddha, or a child
incarnation of the dollar-store Dali Lama, and we should all be somewhat
sympathetic of Obama’s hothouse background. Emphasis on “somewhat,” of
course, given how dangerously out-of-touch Barack normally is with the
world. Having BO at the grasp of the nuclear red-button is about as
comforting as knowing the next room contains a colicky toddler in a crib
full of live grenades. But fortunately, he considers himself an exemplar of
pacifism; that is – when he’s not lying on his White House rotating oval
bed, picking off cotton-tipped Muslim terrorists from his wide-screen TV
with a remote-controlled, jacked-up glider, bearing heat-seeking missiles.

Obama doesn’t seem to get the whole political “big picture,” does he? He
obviously wasn’t taking notes the day Aristotle was discussed, who defined
politics as simply encouraging noble deeds which result in human happiness.
But, if even a Rodney King can ask, “Can’t we all just get along?!!” – then
what is BO’s problem? Maybe hanging out with just socialists, Marxists and
free radicals while in college, as he bragged in one of his
autobiographies—was not a fit training exercise for the leader of the
democratic world?!!

And what is it with Barack and “medical reform” anyway? Doesn’t he
understand his approach to Obamacare is like living next-door to cult
missionaries? There is never any compelling logic to his appeals, and
apparently no end to the dreary sales-pitch either, even when the door is
slamming in his face, or after he claims he’d already given up. But now we
are faced with government run healthcare ratified via date-rape, ie passed
by the nonsensically named ‘reconciliation’ process.

Some astute commentators have asked if and when Obama will have his
epiphany, his wakeup call, his Road to Damascus experience and realize his
USA = USSR fantasies are just a cheap retrograde horror film. But, like the
ambulatory walking-dead in Zombieland, this is about as likely to happen as
for frozen baloney to evolve into prime rib; for MSNBC to start referring to
Gov. Sarah Palin as “presidential” or for Rosie O’Donnell to offer to
surrogate Ann Colter and Rush Limbaugh’s baby in her porcine uterus.

Obama is like some hideously unappealing holiday gift you anonymously
receive, but can’t figure out from where it came to return it. So maybe we
can just wrap him up in red plastic paper with a big “Green” bow for
Christmas 2012 and send him to Russia to act as Putin’s
second-banana-flunky—until the Russian neutron dwarf president is ready to
retire? At least that is a game-plan for how to get rid of an unpleasant
surprise gift, that continually emits a strange, ticking sound – with a
smile on your face and a song in your heart! Either that, or back to the
compost pile with the rest of the political effluent with former President
Barack Obama!
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Kelly O’Connell <http://kellysoconnell.com/> is a writer and attorney. He
was born on the West Coast, raised in Las Vegas, and matriculated from the
University of Oregon. After laboring for the Reformed Church in Ireland, he
returned to America and attended law school in Virginia, where he earned a
JD and a Master’s degree in Government. He spent a stint working as a
researcher and writer of academic articles at a Miami law school, focusing
on ancient law and society. He then returned West and worked as an assistant
district attorney. Kelly is now is a private practitioner with a small law
practice in New Mexico.
Kelly can be reached at:
[email protected]<[email protected][email protected]>
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