Obama Ignores Missile Crisis

Look how surfeited with outrage we must be.  Going almost totally unnoticed from public discussion in the intentional Cloward-Piven shrapnel infofog of the Axelrod ... I mean, Obama Administration, is the news that Iran intends to place "medium-range" missiles (read:  they can reach the US) in Venezuela.  You know, for an Iranian military base manned by Iranian soldiers, see?  (Cf. stories from dailycaller.com and from Hudson New York, via the German daily Die Welt, among other sources.)

Of course, legions of oh-come-on Obama apologists will disavow knowledge of any conceivable similarity to the unbearably, screamingly obvious analog provocation 48 years ago, viz., the Russian placement of missiles in Cuba.  After all, Venezuela has no nuclear weapons, does it?

No, not right this moment.  But today, any tinhorn madman who wants them can develop, commission, buy, or steal actual- or proto-nuclear-weapons-level goodies.  Iran will have nukes soon if nobody stops it, a little longer if Stuxnet keeps working.  Nikita M. Ahmedinejad is a very single-minded fellow.  How long before he or somebody else finds and sells to Venezuela the firing pin to that harmless old shotgun that Chavez loves to cuddle in his office?

Does Obama have within him even one brain cell worthy of JFK, or even one weak patriotic twitch for the good ol' USA, and not for his ancestral homeland of Kenya or his fondly-remembered Indonesia?  That's a stretch, and I for one can't stretch that far.  Fifty years ago any honest-to-goodness president would have held a press conference about this, jaw clenched in-between giving prudent, good-faith answers to good-faith questions from real reporters in porkpies about the shenanigans of such plotting, dancing devils.  And he would have already made a phone call.

Whussup today?  Hussein Obama -- the Alfred E. Newman "what, me worry?" president -- is going to ignore it, of course.  Ditto that bad-hair gargoyle figurehead of a Secretary of State.  It can't be a "missile crisis" if he couldn't care less.  After all, we've got to deal with DADT.  Perhaps the most we can ask for is that when Barry meets Hugo again at the next hemispheric summit, that he grab him in a playful headlock with one arm and gives him some playful noogies with the other, while murmuring, "Hugo, you sly dog, you."  Playfully, of course.  That'll teach him.