19 August 2012


by Andy Weddington
Sunday, 19 August 2012

"Power concedes nothing without a demand. It never did and it never will." Frederick Douglass

Dream: 1: a series of thoughts, images, or emotions occurring during sleep 2: a dreamlike vision 3: something notable for its beauty, excellence, or enjoyable quality 4: ideal  And that's according to Mr. Webster.

Sigmund Freud, the famous bearded and bespectacled Austrian neurologist, published 'The Interpretation of Dreams' in November, 1899. His fame soared.

Martin Luther King, Jr., a distinguished black American civil rights leader, delivered his powerful 'I Have a Dream' speech calling for racial equality and the end to discrimination on August 28th, 1963. His fame soared, too. And, it's safe to assume Dr. King was familiar with Dr. Freud's work.

On the album 'Rumours,' released in 1977, blonde beauty rocker Stevie Nicks, of the band Fleetwood Mac, sang 'Dreams'--it reached the top of the charts in America. Less than a decade later, Scottish singer Annie Lennon, a platinum blonde looker, of the Eurythmics had a hit with the catchy tune 'Sweet Dreams (are made of this).' Both singers are famous, wildly so. These talented women surely knew of the two good doctors.

A decade or so after Ms Lennox's work, along came a mixed race guy, from somewhere, named Barack Obama. He authored a best-seller, 'Dreams from My Father,' published in July, 1995. Though there has been question whether or not he actually wrote the book, the dreams were family. One might say Mr. Obama is famous. He probably knew of Dr. Freud, certainly of Dr. King, and likely listened to the two women singers.

And then it took another 17 years, the life cycle of a locust, for acoloneloftruth - a good ol white southern red-blooded, no non-sense American patriot, to have a dream early morning August 19th, 2012 that was surreal and funny. It was a gift, from our Heavenly Father. So, awakened by laughter, I sprang from bed quite early this morning to write about that dream--recalling and interpreting as Freud might have done while Lennox softly cooed 'Sweet Dreams' in the background. Hallelujah! Dr. King. Of all charges, acoloneloftruth cannot be accused of being famous. Notorious, perhaps. The colonel is familiar with all the above characters, especially the ladies and their terrific music.


So, Oh What a Late Summer Night's Dream -

President Obama's concession letter...



Sunday, 19 August 2012

Dear Americans, fellow illegals, birthers, tea baggers, et al.,

I ate breakfast with the First Family this morning. And I enjoyed it despite the stink eye and 'set the example for the girls' lecture from my wife for the four-eggs chorizo scramble smothered in salsa, half-dozen Krispy Kreme glazed donuts, and refilling my super-sized favorite iced tea - twice. But it was worth the razzing. I may be pushing green but never eat anything that color. It's grease and sweets for me; shh, our secret, seven donuts! 

After playing with Bo on the back lawn for 10 or 15 minutes and scooping for another five - some things the girls just will not do, I fired up a Marlboro Red and strolled to the Oval Office for a 08:44 with a few trusted advisers. As expected, they confirmed what I've known for a couple of years - I have absolutely no chance for re-election.

Therefore, since my election in 2008 was unprecedented, I have decided to end my tenure in complementary fashion. That is, after close consultation with my top adviser, myself, I have decided to concede the election to Republican candidate Mitt Romney. Yes, that is correct, I have decided to concede the election.

Let me be clear, there's no point continuing 'Forward.' with a doomed campaign. I don't mind wasting your money, but my money? No. So, yes, it's over! I appreciate this news will shock my supporters, and my enemies. But if both sides pause a moment to objectively reflect on the disastrous past four years, that, by the way, wasn't my fault, there should be no doubt my defeat, a crushing one, inevitable. Did you really buy 'Hope & Change'? Really?

Now, I beg to differ with those who've accused me and my administration of being incompetent bobble heads. Vice President Biden aside, me and most of my Cabinet knew exactly what we were doing. Together, though our grand scheme compromised sooner than anticipated, we did a respectable job corrupting long-standing institutions, destroying wholesome values, expanding government bureaucracy and dependency, and trampling all over the tired, out-dated Constitution. Fact is, I inherited a mess from George Bush but it pales in comparison to the whopper I'm leaving for Mr. Romney. My only regret is it's not bigger.

Sure, I will miss the trappings of office--the beautiful Oval Office; The White House family quarters and grounds; Camp David; Hollywood parties; and, of course, Air Force One and Marine One. In what other country in the world could a guy like me realize such a lavish lifestyle, with power, if only temporarily?! I am not angry. I understand and am content to move on. Michelle, on the other hand, is not taking our exit too well. She's angry, especially about losing travel perks, and is not proud of her country at the moment. But I'm confident she'll come around in a day or two. I suggested a donut may help - and got the stink eye and tongue. So I'll be joining ol' Bo on the couch tonight.

As my final point of order, and it too unprecedented, I directed that Inauguration Day be moved from Monday, 21 January 2013 to Saturday, 10 November 2012 - the 237th Birthday of the United States Marine Corps. What better way to celebrate! Semper Fidelis, Marines! You guys and gals have always been my favorite.

What's next for me? I've not decided. After a few months rest and fine-tuning my golf game, I'm thinking about building a business; plumbing or maybe a Chick-fil-A franchise in the Chicago area--the mayor's a friend, you know. Whatever the business, pursuing an Obamacare exemption a top priority until it's revoked. I thought for sure the Supreme Court was going to kill that idiotic law; that I've still not read.  

Well, I've rambled enough. My 'Best Wishes' to soon-to-be President Romney and his charming wife, Ann, and their family. 

Farewell but not gone yet.

May God bless me, myself, and I.

Mine in me,

Barack "Barry" Obama

Post Script

You folks still looking for my birth certificate and college transcripts, ha, don't bother. I was not born in Hawaii, and I did not go to college. ;-) 

Oh, Hillary helped edit this letter. I was not happy she deleted more than two dozen "I"s but Bill approved it.

Sweet dreams, all!

 I won one / I lost one.

Post Script

And so went the dream, at least as much as I could recall; they slip away quickly. You can't make this stuff up. Too bad Dr. Freud is not around for analysis and opinion. 



1 comment:

Bruce said...

Your dream to God's ears, Colonel!