A Loathsome Crooked Hat

So Scotland has lost its buddy across the Atlantic. Since the Lockerbie bomber Abdelbaset al-Megrahi arrived in Libya several weeks ago, lauded by supporters at the airport flying the flags of St Andrew and wearing Jimmy-wigs, Scotland has been viewed by our cousins across the Pond as a friend of terrorism, a loathsome, crooked hat perched atop of England’s head.

Day after day, American animosity towards Scotland grows. Anti-Scottish websites are being created (good ones too with impressive Flash intros), more and more US movie goers are claiming that Roger Moore was the best James Bond, millions of disgruntled music fans are returning their Proclaimers albums, and synchronised bonfires are being lit across the States with DVD copies of ‘Loch Ness’ starring Ted Danson being tossed upon them with unrelenting fury.

In response to this unprecedented lambasting, the Scottish Parliament demanded that Justice Minister and vaudeville comedian Kenny McCaskill come to Holyrood and say exactly the same things that he had said earlier in the week but this time in front of a room full of opposition politicians who desperately wanted to be seen by the international community (and in particular, President Fonzie Obama) shaking their heads and tut-tutting.

Remaining defiant, Mr. McCaskill reiterated that his decision was based on the existing laws of release on compassionate grounds. However, he added that he had been appalled by the Beatleswelcome that al-Megrahi bathed himself in upon his return to Libya and had spoken with the Libyan authorities beforehand to ensure that such an occurrence would not happen.

The unavoidable and revelatory conclusion therefore appears to be that this dictatorial government with whom we have been working closely is not entirely trustworthy. Well, they better not screw us on the oil too, that’s all I can say.

The George Administration

The 44th President of the United States has a psychological hold upon us all which erodes our ability to criticise him. Nobody has been able to put their finger on it, until now.

There are many theories one could formulate about how his intellect and wisdom and oratory brilliance have created an impenetrable, invisible shield. One could argue that his leadership skills and political superstrength have bound us all together in an unshakable appreciation of his general fabulousness, causing our doubts about such troubling matters as the alleged torture of Bagram detainees to dribble away gently from our conscious minds.

However, the simplest reasoning actually lies with his name: ‘Obama’ sounds more like a first name and ‘Barack’ sounds more like a second name. Therefore, when we hear in the news of new measures being taken by the ‘Obama Administration’, it sounds a lot more friendly and personable and consequently we are more enthusiastic to whatever these new measures may be.

For instance, if we had heard that the ‘George Administration’ had announced its intention to embark on an illegal war because two buildings in New York fell down, I don’t think we would have kicked up such a fuss. And if the ‘Bill Administration’ had revealed that the President let a member of the White House staff play with his star-spangled wanger, we wouldn’t have battered an international eyelid.

It pays to not use your surname quite so readily. By switching his names over, Barack Obama has created a genius diversionary tactic unmatched by any politician. Obama Barack. Say it. You know it sounds better.

NASAAAAAAAA!

With President Obama having to spend trillions of dollars bailing out the country’s banks in the last week, it was no doubt about as welcome as a herd of cattle in the Oval office when news arrived on Tuesday 24th February that NASA’s $280m CO2 satellite had plopped into the Antarctic ocean having reached a vertical distance that barely exceeded the height of Stephen Merchant in a stovepipe hat.

The Taurus XL rocket prepares for greatness

The Orbiting Carbon Observatory gets to work

Before his historic victory last year, Barack Obama appeared quiet on the subject of space and space-related things. During the early days of the presidential campaign, Obama’s team announced that the future administration would divert funds originally intended for NASA’s Constellation Program towards education initiatives. However, the negative response to this proposal forced them to backtrack.

It is from this and other other public spats (such as the locking of horns between ex-NASA administrator Mike Griffin and Obama’s team leader Lori Garver during transition talks last year) that has illustrated an obvious unwillingness on the President’s part to squander billions of dollars on sending people into space to measure the redness of Mars and lick pathetically at expelled spurts of gravity-free apple juice.

Having lost the controversial figure of Mike Griffin – a man who spoke publicly of his cynicism towards the climate change argument – NASA were presumably keen to put the difficulty of the administrative transition behind them and turn up at Obama’s door with a box of chocolates, a bouquet of roses and a puppy dog expression. Unfortunately for NASA, the chocolates were all strawberry cups and the roses were riddled with Black Spot.

No doubt conscious of President Obama’s desire to put climate change back on the agenda after eight years of gross negligence (where the issue of global warming was positioned just under the issue of ‘Reducing Miss Beazley’s Travel Expenses’ on the Bush priority list) NASA couldn’t have timed any better the launch of their first satellite to monitor greenhouse gases. But in keeping with their fractious relationship, this costly device decided to monitor sealife in the Antarctic Ocean instead.

Miss Beazley

In one, ominous splash, NASA’s most praiseworthy mission was over; both rocket and satellite hit the icy waters taking with them hope for a smoother partnership with the President, a greater understanding of the Earth’s changing climate and almost $300m. One can almost imagine Barack Obama bursting in on a room full of scientists and launch directors, screwing a paper cup and yelling, ‘NASAAAAAAAA!’ in the gruff voice of an angry police lieutenant.

The President has made many bold decisions during his first fifty days in office with little consideration given as to whom it might piss off. With NASA’s latest idea for harmony now full of Antarctic cod, the diversion of funds may yet be back on the agenda.

Even Obama Has It

Viagra. Apparently.

It is true, for an email plink-plonked into my Outlook inbox only a day ago, bold and striking in its statement, virtually demanding I buy a caseload of the little blue pills immediately.

When the thoughts and opinions of a single human being can wash through the modern world with such intensity and speed – reaching such remote outposts as the basements of pharmacological spam writers – then what is there for a writer to do but write about it?

I don’t pretend to know Barack Obama but I am aware of the historical significance of next week. Therefore, I have decided to start this new blog (separate from my regular collection of clumsily written stories and non sequiturs) to address this momentous time in all our lives, learn about the man and bring to the table ideas and opinions concerning the 44th President of the United States that other commentators may have overlooked. For instance, the Afro-American issue has been raised again and again but is there anyone out there discussing his preferred method of erectile dysfunction medication?

The blog is also a celebratory one. Although I hope to develop this into a meaningful yet humourous tome, I must confess to an almost childlike enthusiasm towards the next four years. I feel like a homeowner finally removing the old busted mattress from his front lawn and replacing it with an attractive water feature.

Good luck, Mr. President.