You’ve gotta love Obama.
Man after my own heart, really. And nothing could reinforce this fact more than his recent commentary in which he enacted one of my most fond go-to weapons when I wanna apologize but not really: the timeless tool of descriptive rohypnol for the purposes of spiking a half assed concession or mea culpa into a nice warm cup of WTF with a teaspoon of “it ain’t so bad, is it?”
At least, that was the conclusion I came to after he admitted:
“We tortured some folks.”
Was it the inflection he chose? A tone that sounded more like it could be the sentimental soundtrack to someone being a bit remorseful about shitcanning an employee but he won’t lose sleep over it?
And less about brutalizing fellow species members?
Maybe it was that colloquially endearing noun he went with – the one that better works when we’re talking about quaint mountain cabin communities where your son and nephew are one in the same. Is it that? Eh, I dunno… “Folk” draws to mind a group of unassuming Amish buggy riders who get wagon jacked and then possibly spirited away to some fetid dungeon where freedom fighting heroes pile them into a pyramid of nude humiliation and then capture photographic evidence of it like serial killer trophies.
So, certainly not that, right?
Because who would intentionally weave together such a jarring description?
Wait… is this one of those things where you try not to sound like you’re justifying it by using the words “suspect” (because it implies you think they deserved it), but you’re not willing to actually go so far as to use appropriate terms like “detainee” or “fellow human beings” (because of hubris)? So instead you Air Force One it all the way to the other vocab pole in order to hypnotically prize our focus from us like a snake tamer piping pure confusion out of his flute?
By using shizo inducing juxtapositions like “torture” tandem to “folk”…?
’cause if that’s it – Well done! You go, Glen CoCo. You go.
