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Inauguration fever is cresting with the inevitable flood of Obama merchandise. Here are three candidates for the worst of the lot:
In the “cute and cloying” category, there’s the “Obama, Time for a Change Baby Ultrasoft Onesie.”
In the “right-Wing Paranoia” category, the “Communist Obama BBQ Apron,” with hammer and sickle design.
Finally, in the “child exploitation” category is a new book, Hi It’s Me Zenin, Barack Obama’s Kid Neighbor. This one isn’t on the web yet–I learned about it from a press release. Reproduced verbatim:
Directly across the street from the Obama’s residence, in Hyde Park, lives Zenin Miller. Zenin is what many would call a typical 6 year old little boy Zenin loves Star Wars, Bakugans and super heroes. Actually, Zenin is anything but normal, he’s written a children’s book about what it’s like to be Obama’s neighbor – with the photos to prove it.
The book, titled “Hi It’s Me Zenin, Barack Obama’s Kid Neighbor”, that Zenin came up with on his own, describes how his daily schedule has been affected by living directly across the street from the President elect. The book includes photos Zenin took with his camera; shows what it’s like to have to drive through a security parameter just to get into his house for homework time, hanging out with Obama’s favorite waitress and his local breakfast joint, watching the Obama’s coming home to celebrate and the girls own play party, watching the street change as Barack Obama went from nominee to president elect, through the eyes of a 6 year old.
“Heartwarming interviews” with Zenin, promised the pitch, can be arranged through his publicist.
More from Ken Silverstein:
Commentary — November 17, 2015, 6:41 pm
The Clintons’ so-called charitable enterprise has served as a vehicle to launder money and to enrich family friends.
Freddie Gray’s relatives arrived for the trial in the afternoon, after the prep-school kids had left. By their dress, they seemed to have just gotten off work in the medical and clerical fields. The family did not appear at ease in the courtroom. They winced and dropped their heads as William Porter and his fellow officer Zachary Novak testified to opening the doors of their police van last April and finding Freddie paralyzed, unresponsive, with mucus pooling at his mouth and nose. Four women and one man mournfully listened as the officers described needing to get gloves before they could touch him.
The first of six Baltimore police officers to be brought before the court for their treatment of Freddie Gray, a black twenty-five-year-old whose death in their custody was the immediate cause of the city’s uprising last spring, William Porter is young, black, and on trial. Here in this courtroom, in this city, in this nation, race and the future seem so intertwined as to be the same thing.
Average speed of Heinz ketchup, from the mouth of an upended bottle, in miles per year:
After studying the fall of 64,000 individual raindrops, scientists found that some small raindrops fall faster than they ought to.
The Playboy mansion in California was bought by the heir to the Twinkie fortune, and a New Mexico man set fire to his apartment to protest his neighbors’ loud lovemaking.
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“Matt was happy enough to sustain himself on the detritus of a world he saw as careening toward self-destruction, and equally happy to scam a government he despised. 'I’m glad everyone’s so wasteful,' he told me. 'It supports my lifestyle.'”