Obama delivered his opening campaign speech to a joint session of Congress a week or so ago under the impression that the grandeur of the setting would mean grandeur to his plebeian words. But of course the great marble hall of the Congress did not elevate the commonplace words and ideas to the mean level of inanity. Obama has nothing to say, but he insists on saying it anyway, in the mistaken belief that all the world loves Barack Obama just as much as he does.

 

 

The actor says that without him

The words would have no meaning

Creation starts when given voice

From teleprompter screening

The singer says they’re only notes

Just simple marks on paper

Until the singer gives them life

‘Til then they are just vapor

And so it is that politics

Makes men and women scramble

For writers better than they are

Without them they would ramble

And speak on things they know not of

All vague, opaque and garbled

Believing that they stir the soul

Because the hall is marbled

 

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