Sitting at the Schadenfreude Cafe

I don’t quite know how else to describe my perusal of right-wing blogs responding to the shocker than Obama was born in Hawaii.

What’s funny, though not surprising, is I haven’t heard a single person say, “gosh, I guess… I was wrong.” I guess it’s all about that “conviction” thing.

“Why does it say Barrack and not Barry,” is a good one. And “Why does it say ‘African’ for his father? The term back then was black.” Of course the term back then wasn’t black (the race would have been “colored” or “negro”). And his father wasAfrican.

And “Why did he wait so long,” is being said a lot. I don’t know, maybe because stupid fridge groups often show their true colors and discredit their cause. And there’s something undignified about the President (seems like “respect the office” only applies when Republicans are in power) getting down in the fray. I mean, it’s like if they said he wasn’t a man, would he have to whip out his presidential schlong?

Now Trump taking credit? That’s silly. I mean, Trump did push the issue and it may have pushed Obama to say enough is enough. But it’s hardly something to brag about, especially if you were wrong.

The grandmother video wasn’t convincing. What grandmother wouldn’t remember when her grandson was born, here, where she was when she heard the news? What quashed my doubts was the birth announcement in the local paper. What kind of parents would put a false birth announcement in the papers, in 1961, to help their black son because President of the United States one day?

Now of course we stillcan’t know for sure. I mean, we didn’t see the birth ourselves. As a Twitter feed said, “Yeah, but where’s the placenta?!”