Isn’t this just precious? White House Spokestwerp Josh Earnest said, in response to the multiple terror attacks over the last few days, we’re just fighting a “war of narratives” against ISIS, and by implication, all other terrorists. Of course, neither Earnest nor President Obama embraced the dreaded “T” word. As usual, they couldn’t bring themselves to admit that the multiple stabbings, bombings, etc., had anything to do with terrorism, and as usual, they warned us about overreacting against Muslims.
This is reminiscent of one of the Pink Panther films, when Inspector Clouseau, his clothing smoking from the after effects of yet another assassination attempt, was asked what kind of bomb it was. He replied: “The exploding kind.” Even the dimwitted Inspector could recognize reality when it detonated in his face.
Progressives are obsessed by the narrative of the moment, to the point they can’t deal with reality. In fact, their narrative is their reality, which gives them plausible deniability for failing to actually recognize real reality. One often sees this, as in their arguing that the cascading failures of Obamacare are merely a failure of “messaging.” In essence, words we deplorables can understand. They merely haven’t come up with the right lies, lies that will confuse and/or placate the God and gun clingers of flyover country.
Mr. Obama prefers to see the world in his own terms, the arc of history always bending toward (social) justice. Unfortunately for us all, history—never Mr. Obama’s strength–unquestionably teaches the arc of history bends toward domination, tyranny and war. The Pax Americana has been a brief respite from the misery that has, for most of history, characterized the lot of Man, and Mr. Obama wants to return us to that mean estate. He, golfing, vacationing pajama boy he is, surrounded by multiple layers of Secret Service and military protection, has the leisure to ignore reality, and to think the war declared and waged against us by Iran and all of its terrorist affiliates and puppets is merely a battle of narratives. His narrative, of course, is superior and must ultimately win–in his reality.
Unfortunately, when bombs explode, those caught in their blast radius will not be able to stand there, comically smoking, to observe, deadpan, the bomb was the exploding kind. Mr. Obama’s narrative contends America—and Americans–can absorb innumerable 9-11s. The narrative of our enemies, the narrative in which we are caught up out here in flyover country, the land of the deplorables, is bombs turn us into pink mist and flying bits of former humans. Not deadpan, just dead.
Terrorists rejoice at this narrative, while Mr. Obama, Hillary Clinton, and their pajama boy sycophants, lecture the smoldering, dripping former human beings—no doubt deplorable, or terrorists who can’t be identified as terrorists, wouldn’t have blown them up–and their survivors, on the proper narrative for the occasion–the losing narrative.