I’m no political scientist. I have never peered over the edge of the fiscal cliff; my knowledge of U.S. foreign policy in Afghanistan is hazier than the only night I’ve ever been to the Deuce; and I picture the inner workings of the White House as strikingly similar to the Department of Mysteries in Harry Potter. I am, however, a sucker for cool people doing cool shit. So SUCK IT, political ideologues – this election day, I’m gonna vote for Obama because he is both a PILF and the epitome of badass. Never mind that I believe in his straightforward adherence to old-fashioned democratic ideals – as in, equality in everything from universal health care and marriage to freedom of choice – or his defense of national parks, or the respect he commands internationally. That shit pales in comparison to his killer dirt-off-your-shoulder. The Obamas, ESPECIALLY Barack, are rad. Just like, super cool. Honestly, even if Obama was all, “Let’s just put Sasha and Malia and the dog in charge while I go surfing in Honolulu and smoke some weed,” I’d vote for him anyway. A cool president is worth a million jobs in the manufacturing sector. You know what else is worth a million jobs in the manufacturing sector? Amateur poetry. And everyone knows that the best form of amateur poetry comes in snack-size haikus – traditional short-form Japanese poems that follow a 5-7-5 syllabic pattern. So without further ado, I present an artistic homage to my favorite prez’ campaign in a manner that’s about as political as a toy poodle. On Michelle’s super-toned arms Graceful, burnished, buff Those arms could lift our nation. Can I vote for them? On Barack’s Rad Music Taste Let’s contrast your tunes – Kanye, Bruce, Aretha – Mitt’s: Toby Fucking Keith. On the fact that he has a puppy named in accordance with said music taste: You’re the First Dog, the Second Bo, the third chillest White House resident. On Weapons of Choice In a real battle, Your horses and bayonets Would smash Mitt’s Big Bird. On the book he wrote/dedicated to his daughters WHILE BEING A PRESIDENT You wrote a FUCKING KID’S BOOK about national Heroes. Marriage me, plz. Now that you’ve learned a little more about America’s favorite chiller firsthand – and gotten a little lesson in poetic brilliance along the way – I challenge you to come up with a haiku of your own about Mr. Barack! Challenge yourself and make it politically relevant. Better yet, make it dope. Rock out with ur barack out, Gwyneth
↧