The Punching-Bag In Chief

After the midterm elections, i can’t help but think that Barack Obama’s presidency has has turned into the end of The Dark Knight. We always figured he’d be our hero, the guy who was going to fix everything.

Maybe, to borrow the too-on-the-nose phrase from the movie, he’s the hero we need right now. Think about what he’s done, and then think about what he’s put up with.

Perhaps it’s inevitable that any Democrat was going to be vilified in this day and age in the face of the Republican scream machine. Perhaps it was inevitable that any black President was going to invite overt and subconscious racism, bile, the worst of us. Maybe the combination was too irresistible a target.

But we’ve never seen this before, have we? The man can do no right, it seems. In a world that’s never been grayer, every single thing he does is black, black, black. Every single thing, a bad idea done badly with bad intentions, and nothing short of it.

No wonder he looks like hell. Because no one told him he was signing up to be the punching bag, the target, the man to take the punishment. We believed in Harvey Dent, and we badly wish he could be him. So does he, one might assume. But he’s not. He woke up one day and found out he had to be Batman. At the end of the movie, i mean. Chewed by dogs, chased by cops, and vilified by the people he sacrificed everything to help.

It’s depressing for me to watch, but imagine how he feels. It’s a hell of a thing to live through all this abuse for the staggering achievement of things being less-worse, but who knows, maybe less-worse all we can hope for anymore.

Author: rcolonna

crashes, bangs, maniacal laughter.

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