President Pinocchio’s War of Distraction

From The Blaze

Once upon a time, the Prince of Hope-N-Change stomped angrily around the White Castle. He jumped on the furniture, and kicked his golf bag so hard he snapped the shaft of his favorite putter.

Why was he so filled with rage?

Because, for the first time ever, he had been caught in his gollywhomper lies.

“Like your doctor? Keep your doctor. Period.”

“Like your health care plan? Keep your health care plan. Period.”

Being nailed as a “mis-spoken teller of incorrect truth” had caused the Prince of Hope-N-Change’s popularity and job approval ratings to plummet. Even his media lap dogs had turned against him. Instead of being cheered as the “Chosen One,” he was mocked and called “The Lying King,” and “President Pinocchio.”

All those years of campaigning for his healthcare plan, traveling hither and yon, toughing it out in five-star golf resorts, accompanied by teleprompters, valets, drama coaches, and food tasters…all that effort had been expended for nothing. His adoring public had lost that lovin’ feeling.

How did this happen? Increasing numbers of citizens learned what was in the 2,000+ pages of his healthcare law. They discovered what he had known all along. Obamacare would force millions of citizens to lose their healthcare plans and doctors and be shoved into insurance programs they couldn’t afford and didn’t want.

Obamacare had been exposed for what it was: redistribution of wealth in America, a yellow brick road leading to single-payer socialized medicine.

Medicaid for all. Quality for none.

Desperate to escape the mantle of responsibility, the Prince snuck into a basement vault to consult his most trusted oracle.

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, am I still beloved by all?”

“Poof!” The image of the magic mirror lady, Ezmerelda, floated into the mirror.

“Hello Dearie. You might want to rephrase? Begin with a question I can answer in a positive manner.”

The Prince of Hope-N-Change thought for a moment.

“Mirror, mirror, on the wall, can I still out snooker all?”

Ezmerelda nodded. “Of course you can. Simply launch a distraction or two.”

The Prince of Hope-N-Change asked, “You mean, like a war with Iran or Syria? Maybe Israel?”

“Pray tell, why would you attack your one and only ally in the Mid East?”

“I told Israel to shift their border back to where it was in 1966, but they won’t do it, and I gotta’ teach ‘um a lesson about . . .”

Ezmerelda interrupted. “Dearie, you are the least qualified person on the planet to advise or demand anything from any country. Your foreign policy track record is exactly 100 percent failure. You gave the Mid East to Russia; betrayed your Brotherhood pals in Egypt; backed out of Libya; lost Yemen to terrorist control; armed Al Qaeda in Syria, and dumped Saudi Arabia and Israel under the bus. Better you should focus on distractions at home.”

“Start by hopping back onto the women’s rights bandwagon. But, beware. The right-to-life voices are louder than ever. It’s time to rewrite your history of infanticide support when you were in the Illinois State Senate. And bury those stubborn statistics about the one million babies murdered by your beloved abortion mill, Planned Parenthood, since you came into office.”

“Then, focus on how America’s children must be our #1 priority. Assign your journalists to plant Public Service Announcements about how Obamacare not only supports vital health services for women, but also covers prenatal, pediatric, and dental care for children.”

“And then there’s immigration reform. Sign an executive order to bring millions of your illegal amigos out of the shadows. Give them healthcare, food stamps, ballots printed in Spanish, a $15 minimum wage, and a fast track to citizenship.”

“You’ll love the opposition’s predictable reaction. They’ll jump on the you-can’t-do-that bandwagon and stop beating the drum to repeal Obamacare.”

“Last, but not least, bring gun control back into the national discussion. And for heaven’s sake, DO NOT mention your Fast and Furious gun running debacle. (Pardon my French, but that was a friggin’ stupid program! What were you thinking?) Round up survivors of various mass shootings for another show ‘n tell victim parade. Serve lunch and Kool-Aid to ensure a big media turnout.”

“Republicans are so predictable. They always chase after every diversion…like ferrets pursuing bright, shiny objects.”

Ezmerelda lowered her voice. “Dearie…you need to be aware that the illogical (and juvenile) advice from Michelle and Valerie has turned Obamacare into an industrial-strength train wreck. Those apology speeches? Totally lame. Irritated everybody. If you refuse to apologize, at least ask the most trusted man in America to teach you how to look remorseful.”

The Prince of Hope-N-Change looked puzzled.

Ezmerelda explained. “Invite Tom Hanks for lunch and a coaching session.”

The Prince of Hope-N-Change asked, “What will happen if Obamacare implodes or is repealed by my own democrats?”

“No problemo. Hillarycare’s single-payer system will finish the take-over program you botched.”

The Prince of Hope-N-Change whined, “But, but, but…her plan is just like mine. It’s not fair to name it after her instead of me.”

Ezmerelda replied, “To the whinner go the spoils.”

“Oh, and one more thing, Dearie. Plan a private dinner party for your most important democrat Senators. Ply them with artery-clogging steaks, French wines, and Cuban cigars. And for dessert? Their just rewards. Promise to destroy the political future of any one of them who does not support the Obama team distraction strategies on women’s rights, amnesty, and gun control.”

The Prince of Hope-N-Change protested. “But, but…they won’t want to come for dinner, or even be seen in the same room with me. Especially the senators coming up for reelection in 2014.”

Ezmerelda gave him a squinty-eyed look. “You need to convince them to go along with what you propose.”

“How can I do that?”

“Make them an offer they can’t refuse.”

The Prince of Hope-N-Change was puzzled. “What would that be?”

Ezmerelda smiled, “Threaten to campaign for them on their home turf.”