Thursday, July 15, 2010

The Love That Dare Not Speak It's Name...

No, this is not about Pakistanis lustily inserting oiled rodents into their alimentary canals, or humping the family pets, this is about an obsessive sort of love. The kind that is so all-consuming that those who feel it have their sense of reality warped, to the point where the object of their desires can do no wrong, and even the worst excesses of human behavior can be explained away, or excused, so as to not to destroy the image the lovestruck has built up in his mind of his beloved.

The Beloved is built up in the Lovelorn's mind to be all things: God or Goddess, dispenser of either exquisite joy or sweetest agony, The Very Center of the Universe; all things revolve about the Icon. There is no thought, word, deed, that does not, in some way, touch upon the needs -- real or perceived -- of the Truly Beloved. The Beloved can do no wrong, He has no Flaws. Their behavior, even the most egregious, is always explained away and justified. The Lovestruck simply becomes a willing slave to the anticipated wants and needs of his Intended, losing himself in the process.

It's the kind of love that leaves scars both mental and physical. It's the kind of love which can only end in one way: someone is eventually committing suicide on someones front porch after a dramatic series of phone calls, and even that -- after all the blood spatters and brain matter arrayed in random fan-like patterns upon the screen door -- it is supposed to be recognized, somehow, as a final act of ultimate love.

That's the sort of love affair the Media has with Barack Obama. Even to the extent where they stretch the bounds of reality, and propriety, in their efforts to ensure that everything is, ultimately, about Barry, and their service to him. Everything must simply reflect upon Barry, for his is the Light Within Which they Live. This sometimes leads the Enthralled to do and think -- and unfortunately say -- some of the strangest things you might imagine, leading you to wonder whether they have any sense of reality left. Unfortunately, they can't help themselves. Here are some examples of this phenomenon:

Obama Smarter than Einstein?

That one's not so much a paean of love to Barry O., but some Libtards would make the argument that his supposed brilliance matches that of Albert. This next one, though, is downright disturbing, unless you remember to stop and consider the source;

A Vote for An Indian is somehow a racist slight against Obama

Sometimes, there just isn't enough Zoloft...

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