Today at tennis, after I made a hard point, my partner offered the Obama fist bump.
"I don't do that," I said, and I gave her a stern look. It's not the first time I've run into Obamabots on the courts; the game attracts argumentative, competitive types (of which I may be one). I didn't stop and lecture the O'Bot, because Wasting Indoor Court Time is a Sin. I just high-fived her with my racquet, and went on playing.
I'm into civil disobedience these days, now that we Right-Thinkers are in the minority, living in fear of Obamification. In small ways, I resist.
1) I refuse to do the fist bump. We Right Thinkers need our own hand jive, a nonverbal way to say, ‘I'm Anti-Obi'. I'm open to suggestions.
2) I turn His face around. Whenever I'm standing in line in a store, and find coverboy Obambi staring at me, I turn the offensive magazines around to face backwards. During Inaugural week, there was commemorative ideoporn everywhere. Obama market penetration has receded somewhat, but it's still hard to visit a Target or a grocery store without having to look at The One. By hiding His image, I may be slightly interfering with commerce, but if I can prevent one more person from being suckered into socialism, I'll do it.