Another account of Barack Obama’s early life has been exposed as tripe, and he looks more and more like the “Manchurian Candidate” with each passing week.
His Kenyan grandfather was not brutally tortured, or even imprisoned, by the Brits when they were the masters in Kenya. It turns out Grandad is a ‘composite’ – made up of a bit of Obama’s grandad and some other grandads. There are so many of these ‘composites’ now that Barack’s “memoir” is as fake as a Ninja fight.
Obama’s best friend at school, who was described in Obama’s autobiography as “a symbol of young blackness” has been uncovered as half Japanese. He wasn’t a close friend either.
Obama’s white girlfriend who he says he took to a play that provoked an angry self-righteous clatter about race afterwards, never saw the play, was never in the area, and naturally had no deep and meaningful discussions with him. She was as real as a Barbie Doll.
Heaven knows how many were so taken in by his wanking wishful fantasies that they voted for him. It must run into millions.
His Indonesian step-grandfather, supposedly heroically shot by Dutch soldiers while rebelling against being ground under the iron heel of oppression actually carked it after falling off a chair while hanging mum’s curtains. Sad, certainly, but nothing like an Indonesian Che Guevara.
Bullshit Biographies have become an actual literary genre and Obama’s only differs from the other frauds because it bore his name as the author and because he got someone to write it for him, while pretending he did it all himself. That Obama got into this genre is totally despicable.
Angela’s Ashes took a dive in the credibility stakes when photos emerged of the alleged oppressed and starving little author in his boy scout uniform. Notably, his later books bombed.
“A Million Little Pieces” was touted as a “heartbreaking memoir” of “poetic honesty”. It described the life of a junkie who copped a biff from the cops and then got shoved into the jug for after brawling while soaring on crack. Plus ten million other horrors. It would tug mercilessly on heart strings if it were not for the fact that it is fantasy. The author is actually a university graduate who has worked as a scriptwriter and director. He just made up a ‘composite’ character. A lá Obama.
Similarly with “The Education of Little Tree”, another blasted heartwarmingly honest memoir of a orphan chile’s Cherokee youth. It turned out to be concocted by a rabid segregationist who was a member of the Ku Klux Klan and the “White Citizens’ Council”. He was also a speechwriter for Alabama segrgationist Governor George Wallace, for whom he allegedly wrote Wallace’s famous line “Segregation today, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever.” No, he wasn’t Cherokee either. Or an orphan. He was a writer and radio jock.
And on they go, drug addicts, tortured Ukrainians, ghetto survivors, Mexican lettuce farmers (scratch that) all fakes polluting genuine accounts of oppression.
They make Julia look as honest as Truthful James.
Editorial disclaimer: For those who believe that it is a legitimate question where to draw the line between bullshit and fact in a biography, the Post recommends Chauncey Pilgarlic’s “West of Tibbooburra” in which he describes learning aboriginal astronomy from a stockman, curing spontaneous abortion in sheep by singing old Bing Crosby hits to the ewes, setting Bob Menzies straight on the introduction of decimal currency, declining an arranged marriage with Princess Margaret, and teaching Warnie the outswerving, indipping Googly. (Verity Press. RRP $24.50)