With the publication of Jonathan Alter’s new book on the first year of the Obama administration, a lot of unsavory details are leaking out about No Drama Obama (Mr. Calm and Collected) and his crew. We already know now that Obama refers to those Americans who oppose him as Tea Baggers, a sexually unsavory term.
Tough guy Rahmbo also has some bizarre sexual obsessions he regularly lets loose at the workplace:
Earlier leaks of the book have included some embarrassing portrayals of White House adviser Rahm Emanuel. New York magazine had some choice bits about Rahm’s anger at Bo, the Obama’s family dog (“I’m going to kill that fucking dog,” and his yelling to a male staffer: “Take your fucking tampon out and tell me what you have to say.”
Many of us should be asking ourselves about the wisdom of vesting such extraordinary power in a man with so much anger and so little self-control. After all, he has first access to the president’s ear, yet he’s often little more than an Id waiting to explode. Of course, since the whole Democratic party seems to be operating on the anger principle, perhaps he’s the perfect First Officer for a ship determined to ram (or, should I say, Rahm) itself, and the nation, onto the rocks.
Rahm’s workplace outbursts also raise an interesting question about the level and type of civility necessary for a society to function. In times past, someone on the receiving end of Rahm’s execrable behavior might have responded by saying “You, sir, are no gentleman” — and, a long time ago, even someone like Rahm might have been abashed.
If you doubt me, keep in mind that, in Jane Austen’s perennially popular Pride and Prejudice, when Mr. Darcy proposed to Elizabeth Bennett, he was self-righteously angered by the erroneous factual accusations she threw at him, and was more than ready to defend himself. What stopped him in his tracks, and brought him to his knees, was this statement (emphasis mine):
You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner.’
In a vanished time and place, Elizabeth made Mr. Darcy see, not that he had offended her, but that he had demeaned himself.
The notion of gentleman and ladies is an antiquated one, but I suspect that it’s much more culturally important than people realize. I’ve long thought that it’s no coincidence that the whole PC insanity arose at the same time traditional manners declined. Without agreed-upon manners, the average person lost a behavioral template.
In the old days, certain things just weren’t said in mixed company, or in the workplace, or in public. With those rules lost, people grasped at anything that would smooth over the anger, roughness and chaos that arose in the vacuum crated when old-fashioned dignity and manners departed the stage. PC was there to fill the gap. While the Left created the PC rubric because it required carefully defined victim classes that could eventually override the existing American social and economic structure, most Americans were seeking new rules of civility just so they could get through the day.
Sadly, as Rahm’s lizard brain outbursts perfectly demonstrate, the new rules of civility do not focus on the individual who is speaking or acting. This is an important nuance. In the old days, a gentleman or a lady simply didn’t do certain things. You were defined by your own conduct, conduct that you were expected to observe in every situation. That’s why Mr. Darcy could be so shattered by Elizabeth’s charge against him. He had thought himself a gentlemen, bound by a code of conduct, and he had let his own pride and prejudices blind him to his own failings.
In our Brave New World, however, every rule is carefully calibrated to respond to the audience or recipient’s sensibilities. We are defined, not be who we are, but by the person at the receiving end of our conversation. What this means is that, if the person at the other end isn’t a specially protected class, anything goes. Good-bye Mr. Darcy, who held high expectations for himself, and hello Rahmbo, who sees himself constrained only by the relative power and victim status of the person to him he speaks.
And we, the American public, end up with a gentlemen-free White House, a place in which both dogs and non-PC subordinates are fair game for a lizard brain executive who has the ear of the man whose hand hovers over myriad nuclear buttons, both real and metaphoric.