I had one of those Unified Field moments of synthesis last night.
I was planning what I wanted to post today, and while mulling over Borg Queen Obama a seemingly random memory popped into my head. A quote, I think to my friend Max, in high school or maybe my brief stint at a Government Higher Indoctrination Center.
A simple observation:
"Dogs are glad to see YOU; Cats are glad that YOU see THEM."
I've revisited this once or twice over the decades, and come up with an expansion.
"Dogs are glad for themselves to see you; cats may be genuinely glad for YOU that you see them."
Suddenly, my muse vomited the following on my head.
Obama is a cat. He thinks so highly of himself that he honestly believes he is doing us a favor by letting us bask in his presence. Our President, my friends, is a cat.
Which explains why it took him a lifetime to get a dog.
And why he is so often found sitting on the floor, one leg hiked straight up in the air, cleaning his butt with his tongue.
I just hope he doesn't spray the furniture.