Devil's Food Cake

President 43 will be 49 on August 4 and Mrs. 43 has e-mailed with a request. I’m sure many of you received the appeal.

Michelle says: “Every year, our family tries to come up with a fun way to wish Barack a happy birthday.”

The hostess of the White House continues with: “This has been a big—and hectic—year for him.” Duh.

Here’s some of the penciling on Barack Obama’s dance card.

A surge of militarism.

A surge in Afghanistan.

A surge in troop deaths.

A surge in suicide among veterans.

A surge in WikiLeak-ing of US war crimes in Iraq and Afghanistan.

A surge of droning in Pakistan.

A surge in civilian slaughter.

A surge of hatred.

A surge of mercenaries.

A surge in the insurgency.

A surge in war spending.

A surge of warmongering greed.

A surge of rhetoric to attack Iran.

A surge of wink wink to Big Insurance and Big Pharma.

A surge of uninsured.

A surge of oil in the Gulf of Mexico.

A surge of toxic dispersants.

A surge of lost livelihoods.

A surge of petroleum-coated marine life.

A surge of wink wink to Big Oil.

A surge to Wall Street Banksters.

A surge of poverty.

A surge of unemployment.

A surge of home foreclosures.

A surge of hopelessness.

A surge of desperation.

A surge in domestic surveillance.

A surge of budget deficits.

A surge of propaganda.

And Mrs. Obama wants me to sign a greeting to her husband. To “wish him a happy birthday and let him know that we’re ready to take on the year ahead alongside him.”

Because, she assumes, I MUST be an admirer. I am shaking my head in revulsion. Actually, a surge of revulsion.

Near the end of her plea, Michelle offers this surge of inspiration: “And while we can’t know what the coming year will bring, all of us, working together, will continue pushing forward for change.”

But we do know what the coming year will bring. A surge in the tyranny of the state. A surge of tragedies. For American families and for all those who live in the countries whose resources the USA must manipulate. Simply because we can.

Obviously, as August 4 approaches, I will not engage in wishing Mr. Obama fun that is funny. Instead, I will be thinking of the death day of my nephew Chase—August 6. I will think of Chase whose face was blown from his body under the command of another war criminal, one whose doctrine Barack Obama worships. I will have a surge of thinking about all who have died, courtesy of surging US imperialism.

Light the candles on the cake, Michelle. I suggest devil’s food. And remember to tell your husband that he can’t have his cake and eat it, too. There are consequences—none worthy of celebration. Really.