And Obama is this amazing, graceful boxer, he could be the Champion of the World, but instead of entering a boxing ring where he can dazzle us with his uppercut, and his fancy footwork, and his champion smile, and his superior strategy, he has to enter the mud wrestling pit.
And his opponent is a freaking pig. Muddy. Wallowing in mud. Oinking, smirking, burping and farting and daring anyone to take them on. And the pig is fat and sassy and supremely greedy. It only cares about it's own freaking piggishness. Shameless.
And our poor champion has to take on the pig. That's his job I guess. And well, he gets muddy. Really, really muddy. And he starts looking less graceful and less dazzling. Or maybe he's still graceful and dazzling, it's hard to tell, there's way too much mud!
And it all gets a little hairy and the mud is flying, and everyone gets dirty. And the mud is relentless. We are all drowning in the mud.
