November slides into December, and throughout the land the cognoscenti are asking themselves how President Barack Obama will dispose of the nearly two-dozen books that he bought early in December for Christmas reading from the left-wing bookstore Politics and Prose. He bought, among other classics, A Constellation of Vital Phenomena,by Anthony Marra, The Lowland,by Miss Jhumpa Lahiri, and, for pure literary indulgence, Harold and the Purple Crayon,by Crockett Johnson. Surely he is not going to read beyond the first paragraphs of any of these books, any more than he read beyond the first paragraphs of the Affordable Care Act, which he hastily signed into law. This holiday season he is going to be busy watching bowl games, playing basketball, and answering the sempiternal lure of the links. Maybe he will finally get to read Dreams From My Father. By now any sentient observer knows that he did not write that elegant tome. Did he even read it? The month of November was the month in which the intelligent citizenry began to doubt Mr. Obama’s veracity on a whole range of issues.
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